


It Takes A Village

by Hypocorismm



Series: Watch It Grow, Child of Wolf [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Dad Stiles, Kid Fic, Kidnapping, M/M, Mpreg, Stiles has a kid with Derek, dad derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-23
Updated: 2013-08-27
Packaged: 2017-12-21 04:04:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 35
Words: 49,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/895563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hypocorismm/pseuds/Hypocorismm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles's used to yogurt handprints on his shirts from where he picked her up, and he's used to snot on his shoulders and neck from where she cried after a bad dream. He's used to her legendary tantrums when she doesn't get her way, her eyes glowing ferocious gold. He's used to being the village it takes to raise her, and the pack she longs for. </p><p>Except, he needs the pack's help, and Derek's protection when a particularly power-hungry pack wants his cub. And he isn't used to sharing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

She was a surprise, but two years later, Stiles could admit that she was a good surprise. She was the best surprise. She was the only surprise he had ever wanted, albeit he didn’t know it until he had her. And he loved her. How could he not? She was a little bit of him, and sure, she was a little bit of the other him too, but she was his. She was his little girl, his monkey. He would, and could do anything for her. That’s what fathers were for. That’s what his father had done, and if there was one father you wanted to model yourself after, it’s Sheriff Stilinski. He would do anything for his daughter, anything.

That was why he was packing up his life, again, putting it in the back of his Honda CR-V and driving the ridiculous 9 hour drive from Seattle back to Beacon Hills. It was a drive that Stiles hadn’t made in three years, a drive that he had hoped never to make, at least under these circumstances. The last time he drove 9 hours, it was speeding away from his childhood home in his Jeep, before he even knew what his life was about to become. The sun had been shining down on him, not a cloud in the bright blue sky, as if beckoning him forwards, onwards away from that life to his new one.

“Daddy,” Sadie’s sleepy voice came from over his shoulder, where Stiles was trying to carry both her, her favorite stuffed bunny and her diaper bag.

“Yeah, baby?” he asked, rubbing her back as efficiently as he could with his armful of toddler and toddler essentials. She murmured into his shoulder, her tired baby babble incoherent. He did manage to pick up “cars” out of her paragraph of babble. “Do you want to watch Cars?”

“Yeah,” she murmured as she fell back asleep against him. She had this amazing ability to just fall asleep whenever she was being cradled like this, no matter who it was. She trusted the world, would talk to anyone if they entertained her enough, and that scared Stiles. Stiles, who knew how horrid and vile people could actually be, who knew that the monsters Sadie had nightmares about actually existed, had faced them time and again. Sadie’s unrelenting trust in the people around her was probably Stiles’ fault, if he was honest. He surrounded her with the best people, and encouraged her outgoing personality. That was all his, he figured, considering _he_  had the personality of a brick when it came to people. So, he had brought this entirely on himself. If he’d been watching Sadie carefully like he normally did in the store, she wouldn’t have found herself in the clutches of a power-hungry alpha of a particularly unfriendly werewolf pack. And he wouldn’t need the protection of the only pack he knew. He wouldn’t be making this 9 hour trek home.

This was all his fault, but it was too late to point fingers and nitpick what he should and shouldn’t have done. No, it was far too late for that. Right then, all he could do was make sure that his little girl was safe, even if that meant having to share her with him and his pack.

So he settled his baby girl into her car seat, strapped her in and started Cars on the little car DVD player he’d bought out of pure curiosity. They didn’t use it often because Sadie was generally too busy pointing at passing cars and saying car over and over again to actually pay attention to the screen. When she first started being interested in movies, which was early based on what his pediatrician and babysitter said, she had latched on to Brave right away, and then from there had developed an almost unnatural obsession with Cars, and nothing else mattered.

Even through Sadie’s half-asleep daze, her attention was trained on the tiny screen as the advertisements played. He tucked the diaper bag in between the seats and kissed his daughter’s forehead, brushing her wild brown hair out of her eyes. He hadn’t bothered in brushing her hair, since she’d be in the car for the better part of the day, and had left her in her Cars pajamas, which were extremely difficult to find in her size. She was so little, always had been. She’d been born premature, and god, she’d been so tiny. She was two years old, and still wore 18-months clothes.

Before long, with the car full mostly of Sadie’s toys and clothes, Stiles was on the road. He could not believe this was his life. He could not believe after the time and effort he had spent putting their life together in Seattle, he had to uproot them to Beacon Hills, running with his tail tucked between his legs. He had to, though, he reasons. It was either humiliate himself a bit and keep his daughter safe, or it was lose the one thing in the world that he prized above all else.

“Fucking werewolves,” he grumbled about two hours into the drive, checking in his rear view mirror to make sure Sadie wasn’t listening in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer:  
> Hey guys! It's Hypocorismm in 2015! So I want to warn you guys that there are plot holes, and the characterization of characters is kind of horrendous, and I am very much aware of this. I am sorry for anything that seems out of place or unnecessary! But that being said, I thank you in advance if you do take the time to read this! Thank you thank you thank you!  
> Sidenote: I promise you that my writing has improved since then, and I have 20-some other stories if you would like to peruse those (and I encourage that)!


	2. Chapter 2

Nine hours is a long time for a hyperactive toddler to be cooped up in the car, and by the time they passed the Beacon Hills border, she was halfway to full on tantrum. He navigated his way easily to a public park, one him and Scott used to haunt and let the ball of energy loose. He watched in amazement as Sadie ran circles around some of the kids in the park, literally. 

He sat on a park bench with some other parents, some twice his age, and just smiled. No matter how she came to be, or who helped create her, that was his daughter. He made her. He gave birth to her, the scar across his belly proof enough from his C-Section. That little bundle of smiles and giggles was his. 

“Is she your sister?” a mother in her mid- to late-thirties asked from beside him, gesturing to Sadie. 

“Nah, she’s mine,” Stiles answered, just as Sadie turned and came barreling at him, arms spread wide. He slid off the bench in time for her to reach him and fling herself into his arms with a squeal of something that sounds like Daddy. He stood and swung them around, her squeals turning into shrieks of laughter. He laughed with her, listening to her pure happiness. “ Hey Monkey.”

She babbled and pointed up at the trees. 

“Can you say, tree?”

She tried, but the result sounds more like “free”.

“Tuh, tuh, tree,” he pronounced slowly. “Tree.”

She looked up at the trees above her with a stubborn determination and said, “Tree,” in her best grown up voice. Stiles beamed. 

“Good job, baby. Trees are important, you know that? They are! They provide us with air to breathe, and shade when it gets too hot!”

“Hot!” she parroted. 

“Yeah, hot! Like today! It would be so unbearably hot if there were no trees. They also help keep the dirt in place so we don’t get washed away when it rains.”

He liked talking to her, because he could tell her anything and she believed him. She calmed down when he spoke to her, telling her stories and spewing useless facts about the world that he just knew. She stared at him with wonder and amazement, like she knew exactly what he was saying. 

“Stiles?” 

Stiles knew that voice. That voice had been ingrained in his memory since he was kid, since kindergarten when Scott had saved him from a bully picking on him about his name, his grandfather’s name. He spun, Sadie squealing in delight as he took in the sight of his best friend. He looked good, which wasn’t a surprise to Stiles in the slightest. The werewolf bite had done wonders for Scott, including a newfound self-confidence that hadn’t gone away in the years since they’d seen each other. He looked like an adult, an honest-to-god adult. And that floored Stiles, although he couldn’t pin down why, considering he had a baby in his arms.

“Hey Scott,” he replied, tossing Sadie up as she demanded and letting her fall back into the safety of his arms. He left the sitting area to join his best friend, slinging his daughter around onto his hip with a practiced ease. She pointed at Scott, and sniffed at the air. Her eyes glowed that ferocious yellow. 

“Puppy,” she stumbled over the word.

“That’s Scott, baby. Can you say Scott?”

She looked up at him and firmly said, “No. Puppy.”

“Okay, then,” Stiles said with a laugh, turning his attention to Scott, who was staring at Sadie like she was something foreign, something unbelievable.

“Y-you have a, a, a kid!” 

“Yeah, I do,” was Stiles’ reply, looking down at the toddler who was watching a butterfly behind Scott dance in the air. She brought her pudgy hand to her mouth and sucked on her thumb absently. Stiles tugged at her pajama top, which had ridden up, smoothing the red fabric over his daughter’s chest. He looked up at the other male and smiled, recognizing that face. “Do you want to hold her, man?”

“Can I? I mean, would she let me?”

“Yeah, totally. She’s not shy. Her name’s Sadie, by the way. Sadie Mae Stilinski.”

Sadie jerked at the sound of her full name and stared up at Stiles, probably expecting him to put her in time out. That’s the only time she ever heard her full name, and it is quite a mouthful. 

“Do you want to meet your uncle Scott, Monkey? I think he wants to meet you, and he’s a puppy just like you!”

“Puppy?”

“She doesn’t know how to vocalize it yet, but she knows that difference between human and werewolf scents,” Stiles explained, shifting his curious daughter towards Scott. “She knows you’re a werewolf, but she doesn’t know what a werewolf is. To her, you smell like Freckles.”

“Freckles?” Scott asked, taking Sadie cautiously from her father and setting her against his chest. She sniffed at him, murmuring something about a puppy before nuzzling against his cheek, scent marking him instinctually. Stiles knew he should stop her, before they both get too attached but with the way the deep hum of a satisfied werewolf cub is vibrating out of her, out of both of them, there’s just no way that Stiles could ever split them up.

“Yeah, he’s this dog that she likes to play with in the neighborhood back home,” Stiles replied, noting how Scott flinched when he said the words back home without referencing Beacon Hills. And if Stiles was being honest, which he supposed he had to be in the given situation, Seattle was the home he’d hoped Beacon Hills could’ve been. What did Beacon Hills offer him, anyway? His father, sure, and his lifelong best friend, but other than that there really was nothing worthy of note. His longtime crush had never panned out, and he’d had his heart ripped in half by the father of his child and resident Sourwolf. Seattle was where he fell in love, one little girl taking his finger and squeezing as hard as she could on his heart, and that’s where his baby was growing up, with Jakob and Tommy there to watch her when he went to work. And aside from this recent run-in with the power-hungry psycho pack, Seattle didn’t have an overwhelming trend of supernatural baddies trying to kill him and his daughter.

“So, you have a kid,” Scott stated. “God, she looks just like you. She’s beautiful.”

“I like to think so. I spent seven and a half long months cooking that bun in my oven, goddamn it, she better be beautiful!” Stiles laughed, scrubbing a hand awkwardly through his hair.

“Aren’t pregnancies nine months?”

“She decided she wanted to greet the world early. Got impatient.”

Scott laughed, “She’s definitely your kid, then.” He paused, the question on the tip of his tongue. Stiles could see it, the question he knew he would be answering a lot now that he’s back in town. Scott finally worked up the courage and asked, “Is she Derek’s?”

“No, she’s mine,” Stiles answered out of habit. As far as he was concerned, there was no Derek in the baby-making equation. He’d never done anything with the Alpha, Sadie was all his. “But, biologically, yes. She’s Derek’s daughter.”

Sadie leaned back with a contented sigh and looked around, happier than she’d been all day. 

“Daddy,” she said, reaching out for him and he obliged, lifting her back into his own arms. “Hungry.”

“Oh, of course you only want me when there’s food to be had, you little ham. Let’s go rustle you up some zebra, or antelope,” he joked, starting towards the mouth of the park, Scott frozen in place. “Scott, you coming, buddy? We’ll find you some rabbit if you want.”

Scott scowled at Stiles’ back but trotted along behind them until they reached Stiles’ car. 

“Where’s the Jeep?” 

“Ahhh, had to sell the old girl. She’s not baby safe, and getting a car seat out of the backseat would’ve been hell. I sold her right before Sadie was born, and I didn’t actually get a new car until she was 6 months old, but I had this amazing neighbor, Ms. Noble that used to lend me her car when I went to work. She’d watch Sadie and if she needed to go to the store, took Sadie in a stroller. Closest thing she’s ever getting to a grandmother, I guess,” Stiles replied, opening the backdoor to the Honda. “Okay, Sades, in your seat!” 

Sadie pulled herself up onto the edge of her car seat and flopped face first into the back. She whined as Stiles reached in to sit her the right way in the seat. He quickly pulled her arms through the straps and clicked the top clip over her chest and then the buckle between her legs. She grinned up at Stiles, reaching for her sippy cup. Stiles dug around in the diaper bag and handed the toddler a package of crackers before getting out and shutting the door. Scott remained hovering beside the passenger side, unsure. 

“Get in the car, man.”


	3. Chapter 3

They end up eating at a diner they used to frequent near the station, Sadie tucked into a high chair with a plate of mashed potatoes and a grilled cheese sitting untouched before her. She was interested in Daddy’s cheeseburger, however, reaching for it with a glare.

“This is mine, Sadie,” he said calmly, using one hand to push her food back towards her. Her whiskey colored eyes narrowed and she reached, opening and closing her hand in a universal sign of _Gimme!_ “You have your own food, this is Daddy’s. We’ve talked about this. You eat the food Daddy gives you, and stay away from his cheeseburgers!”

She pouted, the glare fading from her expression, lower lip wobbling as her eyes flood with tears.

“Sadie Mae, do you want to go to Time Out?” he asked low, leaning in. She stared, whimpers emitting from her mouth. “Eat your grilled cheese, Sadie.” That set her off in the worst way. Stiles let out a quiet groan just as her tantrum breaks, her quiet whimpers turning to full blown screams of terror. He dropped his head onto the cool tabletop, peeking out the toddler every so often. It was rough being the guy with _that_ kid, but she needed to learn she couldn’t just get everything she wanted. Except, she totally could because Sadie was Daddy’s little girl and those lungs were impressive.

He switched their plates, giving her the cheeseburger and taking her grilled cheese. Her horrific wails cut off as she seized the nearest half and shoved it into her mouth.

“My child is a monster sometimes,” he said, looking up at Scott who was just staring at her.

“I never want kids,” Scott declared.

“She’s really not bad, but god, that temper. I need to ask my dad if I was ever that bad or if that’s all, you know, a wolf thing.”

“Or a Derek thing?” Scott ventured.

“She already glares enough, I don’t need her temperament coming from him too,” Stiles replied, picking at the potatoes. They fall into an uneasy silence, save for Sadie’s babbles about cars and cheese and even something about puppies. Stiles was the most familiar with the toddler’s baby talk, but even he couldn’t decipher what she was saying with a mouthful of burger. “When I was pregnant, I couldn’t even look at a cheeseburger without wanting to puke. I just wanted salad and apples, all the damn time. And now, my child is stealing my burgers. This is unfair.”

Scott seemed unfazed, as if he hadn’t heard a word as he asked, “Why are you here?”

“I need the pack’s help,” Stiles said.

“What? Why? What’s going on?”

“I think it’ll be easier to just tell the whole pack. I don’t want to repeat myself ten times. I went through it once; I don’t want to relive it.”

“Relive _what?_ ”

“Scott, just let Derek know you have someone who needs to talk with the pack. Right now.”

“Right now?”

“Well, it looks like Sadie’s done, and I can’t stomach another bite until this is solved. So, yeah, let’s go. Right now.”


	4. Chapter 4

Scott texted Derek as they pulled out of the parking lot, Sadie close to dozing in the backseat with Cars 2 on. Stiles let Scott drive; too busy wondering just how awkward this reunion is going to be. He also just wants to see his dad. It’d been three years, calling occasionally when Sadie was asleep to check in and let him know he was alive. He hadn’t told him about the kid thing, yet, and was expecting more than an earful about it before John Stilinski set about spoiling his granddaughter. Not that Sadie really needed any more spoiling than she got from Ms. Noble, or from Jakob and Tommy. As they pulled onto the Hale property in the preserve, Scott’s nose crinkled and he looked over his shoulder at Sadie.

“Her diaper needs to be changed, Stiles,” Scott informed him, parking behind Derek’s Toyota. Stiles still couldn’t believe he had a Camaro and traded it in for a Pack Mom Toyota. At least Stiles had a reason for trading in his metal death trap.

“Damn, kid. You’re useful!” Stiles said, hopping out of the car as Scott parked. He opened the back door and hefted the diaper bag out and then his daughter. “I’m gonna change her real quick.”

“Do you want me to wait, or go on ahead?”

“You can go on ahead, I’ll be right in.”

Scott nodded and left Stiles as he set about opening the back hatch and laying Sadie on the changing pad he kept there.

“You know, little girl, we’re gonna start potty training you soon. And that means no more diapers, and no more trunk changes in the middle of the parking lot, and you’ll be a big girl,” Stiles rambled, shucking the toddler of her pajamas and then her diaper. He expertly cleaned her up and had a new diaper on her within minutes. “Now, do you want McQueen and shorts, or a romper? You wore McQueen all day, let’s go with this cute romper that you will not be caught wearing as a teenager, just so you’re aware.”

He dressed her quickly, her leaning against him tiredly as he helped her step into the one-piece. It was light denim with decorative flowers on the chest, and even though getting her out of it for a change later would be difficult, it wasn’t impossible.

“Okay, let’s put your sandals on,” Stiles said, holding out a pair of well-worn blue sandals that were the only shoes that fit her besides her equally well-worn Lightning McQueen light up sneakers. Once dressed, Stiles lifted Sadie out of the trunk of the Honda and set her on the ground, holding tight to one hand while the other slung the strap of the diaper bag over his shoulder. With a quick slam of the hatch, he let Sadie lead them towards the house, which wasn’t a burnt shell anymore. It was a proper house with a door and windows, and a roof that actually protected you from the weather, and it didn’t have an overwhelming feeling of death and despair. Stiles tried not to feel a sense of pride in Derek for finally fixing it up.

Sadie caught the scent of Scott and other “puppies” and went tearing away, her hand slipping from Stiles’. In an attempt to grab her from running up the steps on her own, Stiles slipped in a hole in the yard and fell into a tangle of limbs and diaper bag.

“Ow, shit, shit. Fuck!” Stiles cursed.

Sadie turned to face her father and with the most serious expression repeated, “Fuck.”

“Oh, Sadie. No. We don’t say that word. Scott! A little help here, buddy!”

Scott trotted out from the house; cookie half-shoved into his mouth as he scooped up Sadie and pulled Stiles to his feet.

“Sorry. Lydia made cookies.”

Stiles didn’t know why it hurt that Lydia made cookies for the pack. Maybe he missed his old life, at least a little bit. But it did, and before he could analyze it further, Sadie reached up and snagged the rest of Scott’s cookie right from his mouth and shoved it in her own. It was coupled with a look of pure satisfaction at having a forbidden cookie on Sadie and one of horror on Scott that Stiles couldn’t help but double over with laughter.

“Oh my god, she stole and, your face, holy shit, Scott. You just,” Stiles wheezed out, pointing blindly at Scott. He forgot where he was until a growl ripped through the air and he sobered up. He stood straight and met the bright red eyes of Derek Hale, Alpha Werewolf. Derek’s attention turned to his Beta and the tiny cub in his arms. Red flags popped up in Stiles’ mind, screaming to get his daughter as far away from danger as possible. “Scott, give me Sadie.”

Scott glanced between his Alpha and his best friend before passing the toddler back to her father. Stiles smoothed down her hair and kissed her forehead. 

“Stiles,” Derek’s terse voice echoed through the clearing.

“Derek.”

“Stiles needs the pack, needs our help,” Scott filled in, wiping crumbs off his shirt.

“Then Stiles can speak his business, don’t you think, Scott?” Derek challenged, staring directly at the little girl in Stiles’ arms. Stiles broke his own stare at the Alpha to look down, and cursed silently. Sadie’s eyes were glowing bright yellow, like Derek’s had been before he became Alpha, before Paige.

“I need your help, Derek,” Stiles said, voice breaking. “But I need it to be a pack decision, not an Alpha decision. They don’t need to risk their lives, if they don’t want to.”

Derek nodded and stalked inside, leaving Scott and Stiles to follow behind. Stiles was met with the full pack in the living room where Scott led him. They were all on their feet, most of the room scenting the air at the change and their eyes narrowing in on Stiles and Sadie, trailing behind Scott.

“Stiles is here for our help, as I’m sure you all eavesdropped on. He wants the decision to help him to be a pack one,” Derek said from in front of the television at the center of the room. He commanded their attention, and Stiles wasn’t sure if that was the Alpha status or if it was seriously still just because he was frightening. “Listen to what he has to say, and decide for yourself. We’ll put it to a vote. Majority rules.”

He moved into the shadows, gesturing for Stiles to take his spot. Scott slid into the spot between Isaac and Allison easily as the pack sat down on various mismatched couches. Stiles lifted the diaper bag off his shoulder and dropped it onto the floor, shifting Sadie’s weight to his other arm. He’d thought about this the entire nine hours in the car, about what he would say. He didn’t know how many times he’d listened to the end credits of Cars before he decided.

“Hey, uhhh, this is my daughter, Sadie,” Stiles started, turning so they could see her face. “She’s a werewolf, and it’s not always easy raising a toddler with claws, and fangs, and is always on the brink of a tantrum. But I love her, because she’s mine. I, I love her in the most indescribable ways. That’s why I’m here, because someone wants to take her away from me, a pack of werewolves from Seattle.”

He let that sink in for a second before he explained the situation further, recounting that day not so long ago.

“It’s probably my fault, because I taught Sadie that people aren’t horrible monsters and she can trust them. We were at the grocery store, and I took my eyes off her for a second, to grab a pack of diapers and she was gone. She just vanished, and I couldn’t hear her or see her, and no one had seen her. I searched the store for, Jesus, it felt like forever before I heard her giggling. When I got to her, there was this huge pack surrounding her, and they all had their claws out, eyes like glowsticks. It felt like something out of a dream. The Alpha, he stepped up to me and, he warned me that if I couldn’t take care of my cub, he’d take her from me. He told me he’d be watching, and if he felt I was unfit, he’d take her and I’d never see her again.” Stiles only vaguely registered that his breathing is off and his vision is blurry because Sadie’s warmth is tucked against him and she’s nuzzling her cheek against his, trying to comfort him. He let out a shaky breath and pushed her hair away from her face before continuing. “You’re the only ones I knew, the only people I could trust to, to keep her safe. She’s my baby, you know? I got a note on my door yesterday when I got home from work that said nothing but strike one. I’m scared, I’m so freaking scared.”

Sadie reached up, sensing his distress and did what Daddy does when she’s upset; grabbed his face and planted a wet baby kiss on him which made him laugh.

“No cry, Daddy.”

“I love you, Sadie,” he whispered, nuzzling into her shoulder.

“Love you,” she parroted. The room let out a coo, or the women did. He looked up, forgetting him and Sadie aren’t alone. This isn’t their little apartment, and this definitely is not Seattle. _Toto, I have a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore._

“Alright, that’s it. That’s my business,” he said, moving away from the center of the room and setting Sadie down. She ran towards Scott, launching herself into his lap and settled there. She looked at him and then at Stiles, back and forth for a moment before she pointed at Scott and said, “Scott.”

Stiles’ face broke out in a grin of pride.

“Yeah, baby. Scott,” because is there anything more perfect than hearing your daughter learn how to say your best friend’s name without any prompting.?

“Okay, are we decided?” Derek asked, pulling attention back to the matter at hand, his own daughter’s safety. Stiles wasn’t sure if Derek had put the pieces together, but if he hadn’t, he was one stupid son of a bitch.

The pack rumbled their assent and Derek nodded.

“Lydia?”

“Yes, we should protect them.”

“Allison?”

“Yes, absolutely, yes.”

“Scott?”

“Yes.”

“Isaac?”

“Yes.”

“Boyd?”

“Yes.”

“Peter?”

“No.”

“Surprise, surprise. That decides it, it’s a majority vote. We will protect Stiles and his cub.”

Stiles let out a long breath that he hadn’t even really noticed he’d been holding, and smiled weakly at Scott who was tickling Sadie and bouncing her on his legs, appropriate sound effects included.

“Can we talk?” Derek asked from beside Stiles, low compared to the baby squeals.

“Y-yeah, sure,” Stiles mumbled, and proceeded to follow Derek out onto the back deck overlooking what must be their training area. Targets were set up along the perimeter of the clearing, probably for Allison’s already impeccable bow skills, while there were weight sets and other work out equipment.

“You left,” Derek said.   

“I did, yeah. Great observation, glad to see you’re still using those wolfy senses to outsmart us human beings,” Stiles snarked, words slipping from his mouth without permission. He let out a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean it like that. I’m still kind of stressed out about the whole potential kidnapping thing.”

“Stiles, you left,” Derek repeated, and that’s when Stiles hears it, the distinct lack of anger in his voice. That’s the voice of a man broken by the thought of never seeing Stiles again.

“Yeah, Derek, I left. No, wait, no, I didn’t leave, actually! You pushed me out. All those things you said, you practically shoved me out of bed, out of town. How could I possibly stick around when you were telling me basically that we would destroy each other and you could never be happy with me. Jesus Christ, you think I wanted to leave Beacon Hills? You think I wanted to leave my friends, my father? I left because you told me I was, essentially, useless to you, to the pack. So I left the pack, although I wasn’t part of the pack anyway, right?”

Derek didn’t respond, only stared out at the forest with a serious, and surprisingly anger free expression.

“She’s mine, isn’t she?” he finally replied after several tense minutes.

“No, of course not! She’s just a born werewolf who happens to have your penchant for glaring at me when I don’t give her what she wants. Of course, she’s yours, dumb ass! Don’t you have some sort of wolfy sense that tells you that?”

“It’s not like a scent. It doesn’t work like that,” Derek replied. “I can tell she’s a werewolf, but it’s not like she smells like me or anything. Even if I could, your scent is all over her, I’m not sure I could recognize anything beyond that.”  He’s quiet, which Stiles forgot about in the past three years, mainly because his child was one of the loudest things in creation. Maybe he forgot just how quiet he was because his last few memories of Derek Hale are him telling Stiles all those awful, awful things. “I’m so-”

Derek was cut off by a loud baby screech from inside the house that sounded like it might belong in tantrum territory. Stiles left Derek behind in an impressive dash back inside the house. The screech turned into an unholy wail, just as Stiles rounded the corner to find Sadie lying face down on the floor, kicking as she screamed.

“Of course,” he breathed out, almost relieved and picked her up by under the arms, avoiding her flailing limbs long enough to get her cuddled against him. She gave up kicking once in the safety of his arms but sobbed uncontrollably. “Sadie, calm down, baby. It’s okay. I’ve got you now. Shhhh.”

He glanced at the horror stricken faces of the Hale pack staring at his daughter like they’d broken her.

“What happened?” he asked over the sounds muffled by his neck, bouncing just enough to remind Sadie where she was, rubbing the hand that wasn’t holding her against him against her back in concentric circles.

“I dunno, one second she was playing and then the next, she was upset,” Scott answered. It seemed to be agreed through the entire pack that they had no idea.

“Did you stop doing something, like tickling her? She gets angry if you stop playing,” Stiles explained, listening to Sadie’s tantrum subside slowly. She whimpered and Stiles caught Derek’s eye. He looked just as scared as the pack. Angry werewolf toddlers have that effect on people. “Want to watch Cars?”

All sad noises stopped as she flung herself up with a smile. “Cars?”

“Yeah, we’ll go watch Cars and meet Grampa, because he is just going to love you.”

“Love you,” she said, her eyes turning back to their normal amber brown from the supernatural yellow that happens when she’s upset.

“I have to go, because it’s surprisingly nearing baby’s bedtime and I still have to figure out where I’m going to do that, considering there is no crib in Beacon Hills. Well, there’s definitely a crib in Beacon Hills, but not one that I can just plop my kid in to sleep, and I have to go let my dad know I’m back, and I have a kid that I never told him about, and Jesus, he’s going to kill me. So, yeah, I’ll see you guys later,” Stiles rambled in his completely Stiles way, the inability to shut up having stuck around despite everything. He nodded and grabbed the diaper bag, heading out of the house.

“Stiles, wait,” it’s Derek that caught up to him on the porch.

“What is it, Derek?” Stiles asked tiredly.

“I know I really have no right to ask, but, can I, can I see her again?”

“Oh. Oh, of course! Jesus, of course you can see her! She’s your daughter too! Just, call me tomorrow?”

“I can’t,” Derek replied as Stiles started down the steps. He whirled around.

“You can’t? Did you forget how to use a telephone? Your cell phone get smashed proving your masculinity? Did you not install a home phone when you fixed up the house? Because I know you better than that, Derek. You know how to use a phone, even if technology is your mortal enemy.”

Derek stood quietly at the top of the steps, waiting until Stiles is done to reply, “You changed your number, Stiles.”

All Stiles can manage is an, “oh.”


	5. Chapter 5

Stiles pulled into the driveway of his childhood home behind the Sheriff’s cruiser and let out a shaky breath before turning off the engine. Sadie let out a disappointed whine at Cars being stopped. He’d driven around the block several times trying to work up the courage to face his father, plus it worked to further calm Sadie down.

“Okay, baby girl. Ready to meet your Grampa? Just ignore any yelling, okay? Daddy deserves it,” Stiles said, getting out of the Honda and circling around to the backseat. He gathered the diaper bag and his child, clutching the keys in his hand as he took cautious steps up to the front porch. Stiles set Sadie on the ground as he fumbled with his keys, looking for the one key he hasn’t used in three years, settled between his apartment key and the key to Ms. Noble’s shed where Sadie’s tricycle is kept. He opened the door and led Sadie by hand into his old home, shutting and locking the door behind him. Sadie could almost reach the door knobs; out of paranoia, every door that can lock was locked.

He took a deep breath, kept a hold of Sadie’s hand and called out, “Dad? I’m home!”

There was a crashing sound in the master bedroom above them and a furious stomping as his father stumbled down the stairwell, dressed in his uniform and looking like he just got off a double. He probably had. The look on his face was just pure bewilderment, his son was home, his son who he hasn’t seen in 3 years, and had only heard from a handful of times in that time period. His son who had a little girl hanging off his hand, tucked against his side in a new and strange environment. A little girl who looked just like that son, big amber eyes staring up at the Sheriff, long brown hair, freckles peppering her chubby cheeks.

“Stiles,” he finally whispered out, so floored by the scene in front of him he can’t think of much else. He wanted to yell, wanted to demand an answer, wanted to know who that little girl is although it’s evident just who she is, but most of all, he just wanted to hold that stupid son because he missed him so goddamn much. He marched forward and yanked Stiles against him, holding him tight as his son burrowed his face into his father’s neck. Stiles can feel the tug of his daughter’s impatience on his hand, wanting to go explore. He pulled away and stepped back, kneeling beside the toddler. He held out his hands and she launched herself into his arms with a smile, toothy and full. He stood and turned to his father, Sadie staring at the Sheriff in wonder.

“Dad, this is Sadie. She’s my daughter. She’s two years old, and I’m sorry I never told you about her. I was afraid you’d make me come home,” Stiles introduced, segueing nicely into an honest apology. “Sadie, baby, this is my dad, your Grampa. Can you say Grampa?”

The Sheriff didn’t breathe as that little girl opened her mouth and copied her father, “Grampa!”

“Good girl, Sadie! You’re so smart!” Stiles shifted his attention to the Sheriff. “Before we do this whole reunion truth thing, I promised the little one she could watch Cars, and she gets, uhh, upset if she doesn’t get to watch Cars. Would you mind watching her for a second while I grab a couple of things out of the car?”

“Ye-yeah, sure, kid,” the Sheriff replied.

“Awesome, I’ll be right back,” Stiles said, putting both the diaper bag and his child on the ground before leaving the house to grab his own bag and a bag of Sadie’s toys, ejecting Cars from the DVD player. When he returned, he found Sadie babbling at the Sheriff in the living room, tugging at her romper lazily and yawning between sentences, or what Stiles assumed were sentences.

Sometimes, on dull days where Sadie didn’t get into every single cupboard with a child safety lock that she’d quickly figured out how to open, Stiles dreamt up situations where he hadn’t left, and his father was one of his daughter’s favorite people, and Derek wasn’t an ass. Those days were few and far between now, because no place was sacred anymore and Sadie liked to make a mess more often than not. He was convinced that she liked to watch him clean it up. It was a nice daydream before she could crawl, and before those tiny hands figured out the baby-proof baby locks. Seriously, what kind of safety lock could be opened by a 16-month-old? The only one he’d managed to find that works, _he_ can’t even figure out how to open!

“Who’s her mother?” the Sheriff asked as Stiles put Cars into the DVD player and started it up. She was out of the Sheriff’s arms and toddling as close to the television as she could get without crawling onto the entertainment stand. She’d tried that a lot before Stiles had finally yelled at her enough that it sunk in.

“She doesn’t have one,” Stiles replied, rubbing his hand against Sadie’s head as he passed. “Come on, we’ll talk in the kitchen. She’ll get upset if we disturb Cars.”

The Sheriff followed and Stiles automatically set about brewing a pot of coffee, before sliding into a stool at the island, his father doing the same.

“You better start talking, kid, because she doesn’t have a mother? Also, she exists?”

“Okay, she doesn’t have a mother because I gave birth to her. I was pregnant with her. Trust me, Dad, I know how weird that sounds. It was a surprise when I found out, Jesus. I just, it was one time and how was I supposed to know,” Stiles let out a heavy sigh. “I apologized, right? For not telling you about her? Because I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I wanted you to see her so bad, to hold her and to know her. Because, I guess I don’t have to explain what having a kid is like to you, huh?”

“No, you don’t. So, you, you carried her? I suppose the question should be, who is her other father?”

“I was really, really hoping you weren’t going to ask that.”

“Why?”

“Because, he’s not your favorite person in the world.”

“Stiles,” the Sheriff groaned.

“It was one time, Dad, and it was kind of a heat of the moment thing, which I seriously should’ve thought through beforehand, because child, but I didn’t and now I have the most wonderful daughter on the planet and I can’t bring myself to care anymore, or regret it, or think of the legal implications.”

“Legal implications,” he drawled out.

“I was 17, Dad, and he wasn’t.”

“Stiles.”

“I know, I know. It was stupid, and thoughtless, and all kinds of wrong, and I almost deeply regret that it was him, but Sadie, Dad. She wouldn’t be Sadie Mae if it hadn’t been him, because she wouldn’t have his skin tone, or his stupid jawline, or his temper, or his impressive ability to glare at anything. She wouldn’t be half him so she wouldn’t be her. I hate him, I really do, because he ripped me in half that night, but God, I can’t because he gave me _her!”_

The silence that fell over them was full of almost sentences and loud glances, and it’s only broken when the Sheriff nodded and said, “Welcome home, Stiles.”


	6. Chapter 6

Stiles woke up early the next morning to Sadie’s screaming beside him, claws tearing into his arm as tears streamed down her cheeks from glowing yellow eyes. The pain in his arm registered, but not enough for him to care. Sitting up, he pulled his toddler into his arms, resting her cheek against his chest and rocked her gently, singing and rubbing her back. The door creaked open, light spilling into the room as the Sheriff peaked in.

“Everything okay, kid?”

“Yeah, she just has nightmares sometimes. They started about a year ago, and the pediatrician said most night terrors don’t start until kids are about 4 or 5. I don’t know what scares her so bad, but she screams like she’s hurt, and she can cry for over an hour before I calm her down.”

The Sheriff nodded and looked around his son’s room, left pretty much the same way since he left three years ago. His gaze fell on Stiles’ arm where blood was flowing from the claw marks, and he stepped into the room.

“She do that?” he asked.

“Yeah, uhhh, another symptom of being Derek’s, I guess,” Stiles said. He had finally broken down and told his father about werewolves and everything he’d been involved in during the Alpha pack invasion. His father was halfway to figuring it out anyway, and even though Derek had been so angry that he refused to talk to him for at least two weeks straight, he was so relieved to not have to lie to him anymore. Since then, or at least the time that Stiles was around before he left, the Sheriff helped cover the pack’s movements and had allowed pack piles to happen in his living room on occasion. Stiles wasn’t sure if that had changed when he left or if there was still a pack tradition of eating the Stilinskis out of house and home every Friday.

His father left them alone not long after, murmuring about getting a couple more hours before going to work. Stiles let him, because god, he wished he could do the same. But Sadie whimpered quietly, reminding him that his daughter needed him as she shifted so her face was pressed in Stiles’ neck as she rubbed against him, leaving her scent all over him.

“Daddy, where Bunny?”

“Uhhh, hold on,” he murmured, shifting in the bed and rustling the sheets, searching for the precious stuffed bunny rabbit that was Sadie’s absolute favorite. It’s nowhere to be found, and _shit_ , Sadie will have the meltdown of a century if he doesn’t find it.

“Daddy?”

“Yeah, baby, one second, I’m looking.”

When a few more minutes pass and there’s no Bunny in sight, Sadie’s whimpers have turned to full blown sobs and screams, her face going red from the effort, her chest heaving in a simply scary manner.

“Come on, Sade, it’s okay. I’m going to find him, I promise,” he said, cradling her against him as he checked under the bed and, finding nothing, hurried downstairs. How had he not noticed Bunny wasn’t in Sadie’s arms during Cars or when they brushed their teeth? How had he not seen that there was a vital part of Sadie’s personality missing when she crawled into bed with him afterwards? The Bunny wasn’t anywhere and Sadie’s cries were borderline tragic.

“I’m going to call someone, okay?” Stiles said, although Sadie could not care any less if she tried. Except, he realized as he located his phone in the couch cushions, he doesn’t have Derek’s number, just like Derek doesn’t have his. He can’t just call him and ask if there’s a grey bunny hiding in his house.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Stiles muttered as he grabbed his keys and hurried out of the house, not caring that he was wearing just a pair of boxers or no shoes, or that his arm was still bleeding, or that it was just after 4 in the morning. He settled Sadie into the car seat, which did nothing to soothe her, buckling her in and getting in his own seat. He put on the radio to help drown out Sadie’s screams as he took the familiar root to Derek’s home in the woods, parking and getting out. He wanted to just run up and search the Hale house without Derek’s permission because of the ungodly wails coming from his daughter. It was like someone had chopped off her arm or something, and she couldn’t figure out what was wrong. Instead, Stiles gathered her against him and hurried up the steps, knocking loudly, although Sadie’s screams were enough to wake the dead, let alone a couple of super-sensitive werewolves.

There was a clatter of feet on steps and the front door was wrenched open, Derek standing shirtless before him, Isaac slightly behind him. They both had that horrified look on their face that Stiles had grown used to when people unfamiliar with Sadie’s tantrums are around. Stiles shoved past, stroking at her hair absently while he paced around the living room.

“You’re bleeding,” Derek said over the screams.

“It’s alright, just a scratch. Her claws, they come out after a nightmare. It’s how she wakes me up, as if the ear-piercing screams aren’t enough.”

“That looks deep, Stiles,” Isaac said, moving close to him and examining it.

“It’s really the worst of my worries, guys. I need your help. Sadie has this, this bunny. It’s a stuffed animal that she’s had since I was in the hospital, and she can’t really function without it, and that’s what the screaming is about, and if I don’t find Bunny ASAP, we’re probably all baby werewolf chow. So, can you help? Because I’m about three seconds from crying myself because I can’t find the damn thing,” Stiles ranted, checking in the couch and behind it, and under tables. When he stood from checking under the couch, Derek was holding Bunny.

“I was actually wondering where this came from,” Derek replied, holding it out as Stiles marched forward. He took it and turned Sadie just enough. The screams abruptly cut off as she snatched it from her father and hugs the tired, faded grey bunny to her chest. She snuggled into Bunny’s belly and just as quick as her tantrum was over, she was asleep against Stiles.

Stiles collapsed into the nearest couch and let out the most bone-weary sigh he’s ever managed, even he can hear it.

“This kid, I swear.”

“Are you okay?” Isaac asked, coming to sit on the arm of the couch beside them.

“She’s a handful and a half, that’s for sure. When she was, God, she must’ve just turned one, she had her first nightmare. I was in the living room, fucking around with this kid, Tommy, since it was my day off and I just wanted to play Halo, and anyway, I’m sitting there and she starts screaming like someone is hurting her, like someone is ripping her in half, and I can’t, I can’t move. She terrifies me so much, what if something happens and I’m not enough to fix it?”

“You drove all the way here at 4 in the morning in your underwear, Stiles, to look for a stuffed animal,” Isaac said.

“It’s not like I had any other choice. Any longer and the neighbors would’ve called the cops, again. And that wouldn’t have been a pretty sight. I’ve been through that. The amount of glares you get, because people think you’re mistreating your kid or something, and then there are the glares from the people who glare because your kid dared to make noise.”

“We should really clean those up,” Derek said from beside the couch, drawing their attention to Stiles’ arm, which was looking nastier the more he looked at it. He shifted Sadie out of his arms and rested her on the couch, and quickly worked up a makeshift border out of pillows and cushions to keep her from rolling off. He followed the pair out into the kitchen where Isaac sat him down.

“You’re a great dad,” Isaac reassured him while Derek went to fetch the first aid kit.

“When I found out I was pregnant, which was surprise in and of itself, once the initial shock wore off, I was so goddamn worried, you know? What if I’m shit at this, like I am at most things? I had to figure out where to stay, and how I was going to raise a kid and pay for our home, and who would watch her, and I was just so scared I was going to fuck up. And then she was there, in my arms, and I couldn’t imagine not giving her the world. There’s this song, and I’m pretty sure it’s not talking about babies, but it goes something like I hold the world when I hold you. And that pretty much sums up my whole view on her. I can’t not do my best for her, and I think, yeah, I’m making this work, being a single parent. But, then shit like this happens.”

“I think you’re doing fine.”

“Thanks, Isaac,” Stiles said with a smile. He always liked Isaac, except for the time when he was power-hungry after the bite and wanted to kill everyone. That wasn’t cool, but Scott was like that too, so he could forgive Isaac. Once he leveled out, Stiles could recognize the awesome in him, because he was a great kid.

“Where do you live now?”

“Seattle,” Stiles replied, examining the claw marks on his arm and the rivulets of blood on both sides. “That’s gross.”

“At least it’s stopped bleeding,” Isaac offered as Derek appears in the doorway.

“Bad thing is, I’m not even fazed anymore. Needles, blood, shit, whatever, I’ve seen the worst of it. Being a parent is rough,” he stated, holding his arm out to the alpha to clean and bandage. “Especially having to like, make sure you don’t rip your own stitches while trying to calm a newborn. That’s, that should be an Olympic sport.”

“Rip your stitches?” Derek said, his voice low.

“Yeah, I had a C-Section, since I lack the proper parts to actually give birth to a kid. There’s a flaw in my anatomy right there, let me tell you.”

Silence fell quickly as Derek ducked his head, refusing to participate in the conversation, or lack thereof, while he patched Stiles up. His bulk sat awkwardly in between Isaac and Stiles, so any conversation they could start would be damn near impossible. So Stiles just let Derek gently fix his wounds, which was weird enough as it was.

“Has she done this often?”

“No, well, yeah. I’m surprised none of them have scarred.”

“She needs to learn not to let her wolf out like that,” Derek muttered.

“It’s not like I can yell at her, Derek. She’s two years old. I can’t even get her not to scream when she doesn’t get her way, thanks to _your_ temper, let alone get her to use her words rather than her claws!” Stiles snapped, and immediately wished he could take it back. “I’m sorry, I’m just so tired.”

“You can sleep here, if you want. We need to figure out how we’re going to keep you two safe, if that pack comes looking,” Isaac offered, looking to Derek for confirmation, checking to make sure he hadn’t overstepped his boundaries.  

“He’s right,” Derek agreed, raising his head and catching Stiles’ gaze. “We need to keep you safe.”

Stiles clamped his mouth shut before he asked if it was because Derek wanted to or because his pack did. He didn’t want to know, because if Derek was doing this because this was Stiles and his child, he might trick himself into thinking Derek cared. And if Derek was just doing this out of pack obligation, he might just have to find the nearest river of bourbon and drown himself in it. He didn’t even like bourbon.

“I still haven’t even told my dad why I’m back,” Stiles said, changing the subject. “Oh, Jesus. And I didn’t tell Tommy I was leaving. He’s gonna be pissed. I didn’t even think, I just left. I had to get out of there. I couldn’t protect her; I couldn’t keep her safe, so I had to leave. I had no other choice. God, he’s going to be so angry.”

“Stiles, you need to breathe,” Derek’s calm voice cut through the invading panic attack. His hand encircled Stiles’ wrist in a light grip and he pulled Stiles into his arms. He resituated Stiles so his back was pressed into Derek’s chest. He breathed evenly, one hand still holding Stiles’ wrist while the other was pressed into the center of his chest. “Stiles, breathe with me.”

The panic attack subsided; the pounding in Stiles’ head dissipated and he could breathe, really breathe. He sighed and just rested his head back against Derek’s collarbone, willing his heart to slow, to stop rabbiting against his ribs. He didn’t try to move because he figured Derek wouldn’t even let him get down until his heart rate was steady and his hands didn’t wobble. When he is finally under control, breathing even and vision clear, he tugged at Derek’s grasp and slid to the floor.

“Thanks,” Stiles murmured awkwardly. He checked the bandage on his arm, just for something to do before padding quietly out to the living room. Sadie still had Bunny hugged to her chest in a death grip, snoring cute little baby snores that Stiles knew she got from Derek.

“You made a cute kid, Stiles,” Isaac yawned, gripping his shoulder for a moment before heading upstairs.

“Yeah,” Stiles agreed. Derek came to stand at his elbow as Isaac’s door shuts upstairs. It’s quiet for a while, and while Stiles normally hated silence, he savored it. He couldn’t open his mouth to break it, even if he wanted to. The fear that something awful might happen controlled his tongue, forcing it still.

“Stiles, if you want to get some sleep, you can sleep in my bed,” Derek offered as Stiles yawned.

“No, no, it’s fine,” Stiles stuttered out, trying not to think of the last time he’d spent the night anywhere near Derek. “I can sleep on the couch, if I need to.”

“Stiles, you’re not gonna fit.”

“I’ve slept on a couch smaller than that when I was 30 weeks into my pregnancy,” Stiles admitted. “I’ll be fine.”

“I’ve already made this bad enough, Stiles, please, let me help.” There was something in Derek’s voice that made Stiles stop and turn. He looked so fragile standing there, open and ready to be hurt.

“Okay,” Stiles sighed. He rounded the couch and kissed Sadie’s forehead, whispering against her soft skin, “I love you.” He returned to Derek’s side and the alpha led the way up the staircase and to the end of the hall. He opened the door and stepped inside, Stiles following into the master bedroom. He stopped, because Derek had rebuilt this house nearly by himself, and Jesus, that meant he designed the décor as well. Everything was browns and greens, a queen-sized bed set in the middle on a four-poster bedframe out of dark cherry wood. It looked like something right out of a catalogue, a matching entertainment stand across from the bed and a dresser of the same wood against the far wall. A hamper sat beside that, and a desk with a sleek laptop is tucked into the corner.

“Wow, this is something, Derek.”

The last time he’d been in Derek’s bedroom was before the whole Sadie-making night and it was at the loft. It’d been just a full-sized bed on a rickety frame, and an old worn dresser against a wall. The loft, it seemed, was temporary and a place to keep the pack happy and safe.

“Thanks, I uhh, Lydia might’ve made me actually design the house.”

Stiles can’t help the laugh that escapes his throat; because _of course_ Lydia had a hand in this house. He wasn’t sure if Derek would’ve even put in a dresser if Lydia hadn’t made him decorate.

“It’s nice, Jesus. This is nicer than my apartment, and okay, I guess that’s not really saying much.”

“Stiles,” Derek said, pulling Stiles into the room and shutting the door. “Lay down.”

“Whoa, dude. I just got into town. Buy me some dinner first and maybe a couple drinks then we’ll talk,” Stiles said, already climbing onto the bed and bouncing like a child. The bed was incredibly soft, which was weird because Stiles had pegged Derek for a firm mattress lover but whatever, if the dude was into memory foam or whatever, all the more power to him. “Did you ask for the cloud model when you bought this bed, because fucking hell, Der, this is heaven!”

He flopped backwards and without even asking for permission, because he is Stiles and this is awkward enough as it is without second guessing himself, he pulled himself under the sheets and flipped onto his stomach.

“Are you joining me?” he asked, raising his head slightly from the memory foam pillow Derek has.

“Uhhh, I don’t want t-”

“Get the fuck in the bed. Wake me when the baby is awake.”

“How do I know she’s aw-“

“Trust me, Derek, you’ll know.”


	7. Chapter 7

Stiles doesn’t have any kind of air clearing talk with Derek, even though the tension between them is so thick you could probably pet it. The next few days were calm, as if there was a storm coming. Mostly, Stiles let Derek get to know his daughter when he isn’t at work, and tried to spend quality time with his father when he isn’t doing Sheriff things, and Scott when _he_ isn’t at class or with Deaton, and let the pack do pack things. He showed Sadie around his hometown, telling her stories she won’t remember but seemed to enjoy, and he introduced her to his dad’s deputies. He was practically raised by the station, especially after his mom died. They all had a turn at babysitting Stiles and the rookies were always handed a Stiles when he was on a sugar high or had forgotten his Adderall, kind of like an initiation. He wanted them to know her, to see what he did, what he made.

The point is life was normal. It’s almost like there wasn’t a crazy pack of werewolves looking to take Stiles’ child from him. But they were, and Stiles kept looking over his shoulder, waiting for the other shoe to drop. He hoped that they would just come so Derek can beat their ass, just so he could be done with the waiting. Jesus, the waiting was going to drive him crazy.

“No,” Sadie said, pointing obstinately at Lydia a few days after Stiles slept in Derek’s bed. Which was weird. And nice. And confusing.

“Stiles, your child,” Lydia groaned, holding out the new outfit from her shopping spree.

“It’s not Cars,” Stiles shrugged. “Or Bunny. Just put it on her, she won’t mind it then.”

“How do you do that?” Lydia asked. Stiles sighed and got up from where he was lounged on Scott’s couch. Lydia and Allison dragged Stiles from the Sheriff’s house, Sadie in tow, and forced him into Scott’s apartment across town so they could spend time with Sadie, and her dad.

“Arms up, Sades,” Stiles cooed and tickled at her belly until she giggled and raised her arms up. “Okay, pull her shirt off, Lydia.”

He watched as Lydia struggled with the toddler’s Lightning McQueen sleep shirt. Stiles was always so astounded at how small the head opening is on kids’ shirts, considering the ratio of head to body is higher when you’re that small. Finally, Sadie’s head came free and she stumbled, Lydia’s hand coming up to hold Sadie in place automatically.

“How was it, being pregnant?” Allison asked, pushing her textbook away from her in defeat.

“I don’t know. It was weird, I guess. I had this, this baby growing inside my body, which I hadn’t known that it could even do that previously. I was hungry all the time, but the sight of any fast food made me instantly nauseous. I ate salad and fruit for seven and a half months. I would’ve lost so much weight, what with the morning sickness that lasted into my second trimester, if I hadn’t been gaining baby weight. I was so achy, and when I wasn’t nauseous, I was horny as hell. But, it was worth it.”

“Okay, how about the pants?” Lydia asked now that all of Sadie’s limbs in the right holes of the shirt, not that Stiles expected any less. Stiles stepped up and tugged down Sadie’s sleep shorts, letting Lydia take over.

“She’s pretty good at the pants, has been since she first figured out that no pants could easily mean no diaper and she hates diapers. But her head is too big for her to figure out shirts quite yet.”

Sadie stepped into the shorts that Lydia held open and waited as Lydia pulled them up her legs and buttoned them shut. Lydia leaned in and pressed her perfect lips against Sadie’s chubby cheek, murmuring quietly against it. She hoisted Sadie’s up off the counter and peppered more kisses into Sadie’s face and neck, making the toddler squeal and squirm deeper into Lydia’s embrace. Sadie had taken very nicely to the pack, because she loved cuddles and hugs more than anyone in the world, and the pack was very generous in doling them out.

“I want one,” Lydia stated, finally setting Sadie down to play with her new mountain of toys, courtesy of the pack. “Stiles, knock me up.”

Stiles let out a surprised snort and shook his head.

“Sorry, Lyds, no can do. I already have one little monster, quite literally by the way, that I can barely take care of on my paycheck. I don’t think I could manage two. Besides, I’m sure there are perfectly willing members of the community that would love to have a nearly meaningless night of baby making with the one and only Lydia Martin. I’m just not it.”

“I know. Besides, I won’t be able to conquer the world with a kid on my hip.”

“Yes, you could. You’re Lydia Martin; you could conquer the world with a kid on each hip and do it in heels.”

She grinned at that. “Yeah, I could.”

“I want to see pictures,” Allison finally said, opening the fridge. There’s barely anything on the shelves, which doesn’t surprise Stiles in the slightest. He always thought that if Scott lived on his own, he’d eat nothing but take out and fast food, maybe some microwavable ready meals. When they were in the thick of their freshmen year, miserable and tired, talking about getting out and graduating, they’d imagined that they’d go to college together, room together, and maybe in their second year get an apartment like this one. Stiles knew back then that he’d be the one buying the groceries and cleaning up the apartment, just like he had since his mom died and his dad had to take on extra shifts.

“Uhm,” was all Stiles could reply.

“Sorry, of Sadie, when she was a baby. I want to see for myself that you made this adorable baby from the beginning.”

“Oh, yeah, of course! I’ve got this slideshow, but it’s on my computer,” Stiles replied.

“Bring it to the pack meeting tonight, at Derek’s,” Lydia supplied.

“Am I allowed? At the pack meeting? I mean, I’m not pack.”

“I’m sure Derek will be fine with it. We mostly just fuck around, eat and watch the wolves train anyway. It’s not like you’d be interrupting anything important. He holds the meetings for posterity’s sake or something. And they’re not even meetings, they’re like, pack bonding nights. Some nights, they skip the training and go straight to eating Derek out of house and home and having movie marathons.”

“Sounds awesome, Alli,” Stiles sighed, sinking into a chair at the kitchen table, watching Sadie and Lydia play with her toy cars.

“I’m glad you’re back, Stiles. Beacon Hills just hasn’t been the same, you know? The pack certainly hasn’t. We haven’t seen a glimpse of Cora in months, and Derek, well, he’s definitely different. And Scott, he kept insisting you’d been kidnapped for the longest time, until the Sheriff heard from you. He thought,” she said and then sighed. “I’m sorry. It’s not fair to guilt trip you with this. You left because you needed to, and I understand that. I just, we all missed you. You were part of us, an important part. And I’m glad you’re back.”

“You know, once this is all sorted out, Allison, I’m going back to Seattle. That’s my home. That’s Sadie’s home. I built a life for us there. Important part or not, I have a life outside of Beacon Hills.”

“We’ll see,” is her reply.


	8. Chapter 8

Stiles brought his laptop, just as promised, to the pack meeting, along with a couple of pizzas he picked up from D’Abbraccio’s Pizzeria, a local restaurant run by a bunch of douche bags that unfortunately knew how to make pizza. He parked between Derek’s Toyota and Allison’s cute hatchback, shouldering the laptop bag and balancing the pizza boxes on his hip.

“Can one of you supernatural assholes come open the door?” he called, barely raising his voice as he walked. Before Seattle, this would’ve been impossible, the careful balance of bag and boxes, one foot in front of the other, the walking and the multitasking perfectly. But that was before he’d learned how to carry a squirming infant and a basket of grocery, shaking a bottle of formula and bouncing said squirming infant. He’d gotten good at balance, at multitasking. He had to. There was no other choice.

The door was open when he got to it, although no one came to relieve him of the pizza. He found most of the pack at the island counter in Derek’s kitchen and he slid the pizza in the center without a word. He laid the computer bag on the rarely used dining table and joined them in the kitchen. He leaned against the granite counter, snagging one of the last slices of pepperoni as the pack polishes off both cheese pizzas, the supreme _and_ the pepperoni pizzas. He’s seen Tommy and Jakob finish an impressive amount of Taco Bell in record amount of time, and his daughter was an unstoppable hurricane when she’s hungry, but the pack is still the most impressive machine Stiles had ever seen, systematically devouring everything in its way.

“What’s on the agenda today, kiddies?” Stiles asked, for once not looking for Sadie’s next tantrum, not looking for cupboards she could easily open and drink bleach by accident, not looking for her still awkward baby stumbles that could split open her head, although it’d only be for a few moments. He’s thankful for his father, who wanted to spend all his free time with the little monster before Stiles’ situation is cleared up and vaults back to Seattle, back home. He doesn’t have to worry about Sadie because his father raised him, _him._ If he could handle Stiles during the whole lie-to-the-Sheriff phase right after Scott was bitten, he could handle a couple of baby tantrums. She’d be going down for bedtime soon anyway, and then he’d be alright. Hopefully.

“Are you worrying about Sadie?” Scott asked, cutting into Stiles’ thoughts.

“That obvious, huh?”

“You kind of went far away there. And you kind of turned into a mother hen when you left,” Scott explained.

“It’s not so much Sadie, actually,” he replied. “It’s my dad. You’ve seen only a small bit of Sadie’s epic meltdowns, and I’m generally the only one who can derail them, and she’s got claws and fangs on top of everything toddler dangerous.”

“He’s fine,” Allison assured him.

“I know, I know, but Scott is right, I turned into a mother hen. It comes with being a single parent in a strange city.”

Stiles knew, could see that nearly every single one of them wanted to comment on that but none do.

“Did anyone answer my question when I was zoned?”

“Movies and drinking,” Boyd piped up from beside him, offering one of his rare smiles.

“Sounds like my kind of night.”

“Did you bring the computer? I want to see baby pictures,” Allison asked.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll go set it up on the television so everyone can see.”

Stiles slipped out of the room, grabbing his laptop case on the way through to the living room. He fiddled with cords and opens up the slideshow Tommy made him for Sadie’s birthday party. He checked the connection and looked at the television just as the pack filed in. They took their seats and stared expectantly at the screen.

“Let me flip past some of these. They’re just my pregnancy photos; Tommy felt the need to slip those in when he made it, the little shit.”

“No, wait, wait, I wanna see what pregnant Stiles looks like!” Allison protested. Stiles sighed and flipped back to the beginning. The first picture is Stiles’ first ultrasound, Sadie barely a blip on the screen.

“Okay, this took me forever to figure out without a doctor actually pointing it out but this right here,” he said, reaching up and circling the little blip that was his daughter, “This is Sadie Mae Stilinski at week 8 before she was even a Sadie, and barely a Stilinski.”

“She’s cute,” Lydia cooed.

“She’s a circle,” Stiles shot back. “You wouldn’t think she’s so cute if you were carrying her at that point. I was curled around a toilet well into my second trimester, even though morning sickness is supposed to end at the end of the first.”

He clicked forward to a picture of himself and Ms. Noble beside the old Jeep, outside his motel room where they met. His belly is barely a thing, barely noticeable underneath his huge t-shirt, but it’s there, he remembered it being there. In between bouts of crippling nausea, Stiles could find himself staring at his belly, a bump nestled between his increasingly prominent hipbones.

“Who’s that?” Scott asked.

“That’s Ms. Noble. She’s like my landlady? When I first got to Seattle, I stayed at this cute but kind of rundown motel that she owned and after the first week, she came looking for the rent but I was out of money by then. I’d spent my savings on gas and fixing my Jeep just to get to Seattle. She’d found me curled around the toilet, practically in tears. She made me go to the doctors and I found out I was pregnant, but she refused to make me pay any rent for the room, after I explained everything. She found me my apartment, conveniently next to hers, helped me with selling the Jeep, and she’s been Sadie’s number one babysitter.”

“She sounds like a nice lady,” Allison chimed in. Stiles nodded and clicked. He’s about four months along, sitting in Tommy’s car, on Tommy’s lap. There’s a huge load of Chinese take-out sitting at their feet that Stiles remembered eating most of, on one of his rare days of not wanting fruit, then joking that he had a food baby bigger than his actual baby.

“That’s Tommy. He’s a good friend. Not much I can say about him, except he’s really handsy when he’s drunk.”

Someone made an offended noise, and Stiles wasn’t sure who it came from. He moved on, the next pictures chronically his belly getting bigger and bigger. He looked at each one with a fond smile, glancing occasionally at the pack. As Stiles gets more and more pregnant, Derek’s face twisted into this constipated look more and more. The last picture Stiles remembered in the slideshow before the baby pictures was taken from a few days before he went into labor. He’s sitting, shirtless on the couch, a bowl of fruit salad resting on his belly. He’s grinning at Tommy behind the camera, even though he was miserable that day. Sadie hadn’t stopped moving at all, kicking him in the ribs and bounced on his bladder, plus he was hot and hadn’t slept. But he was good at putting on a happy face for Tommy, and his nonstop photography.

“I really can’t believe how much weight I gained. I literally ate lettuce and apples for my entire pregnancy. It took forever to lose that weight too,” Stiles explained, turning to look at the pack. “Of course, the minute I was out of the hospital, I had a damn cheeseburger with extra fat so that probably didn’t help much.”

His eyes settled on Derek, who was staring at the screen with the most torn expression on his confusing face. Stiles swallowed the lump in his throat because he’s definitely seen the look on Derek’s face only once, and that was just after he’d pulled all of Stiles’ clothes off.

He clicked, prepared to talk about Sadie and the pictures of her from the hospital when he turned to look at the screen. It’s not Sadie’s first picture from the hospital at all, it’s a picture of Stiles asleep in Tommy’s arms, belly pressed into Tommy. It was the day Stiles had gone into labor and he had woken up in extreme pain probably just hours after this.

He didn’t remember this picture in the slideshow before, but he’d been busy planning the party so it must’ve slipped by. He doesn’t want to think about the look on Derek’s face, the twisted, almost angry look he can see out of the corner of his eye. He doesn’t want to think about the twist in his gut, the undeniable tug on his heart at that look. That look is unfair; Derek doesn’t get to be angry and jealous when he said all of those awful, heartbreaking things to Stiles. He doesn’t have that right.  

“Just a good friend, huh?” Allison chuckled.

“I couldn’t sleep without cuddling someone, stop it.”

“You’re a stomach sleeper,” Scott mentioned.

“It’s cute that you remember that, Scott, really. I understand the impossibly of sleeping on your stomach when you’re pregnant.”

Stiles moved on, and he’s finally safe in Sadie territory. He talked about everything he can, avoiding stories with Tommy even though those were some of the cutest, just so he could avoid that look on Derek’s stupid face. He told them about the time Sadie bit the nurse at the dentist’s office with her werewolf fangs, and the time Sadie scared the hell out of Jakob by hiding under the desk while he was watching her, and refused to answer his calls. He’d been in tears when Stiles answered his phone, apologizing over and over that he took his eyes off her for a second, and halfway through the call, Sadie popped out and yelled Daddy. Jakob burst out crying in relief.

“Who is Jakob?” this question came from Isaac.

“He’s Tommy’s brother, and also my boss, sort of. He got me my job and helped me keep it through all of Sadie’s little emergencies.”

Finally, at the end of the slideshow, there’s a picture of Stiles holding Sadie, Tommy leaning in to kiss Sadie’s cheek outside Woodland Park Zoo. Stiles pressed the escape button on his computer, pulling up his desktop background of Sadie standing in her Halloween costume, which no one but Stiles had found hilarious. She had gone as Little Red Riding Hood, while Tommy had forced Stiles into the Big Bad Wolf costume to match.

“Really, Stiles? Red Riding Hood? Couldn’t come up with anything more creative than that?” Derek barked out.

“Shut up, Derek. It’s cute,” Stiles shot back automatically. “And just vaguely ironic.”

“God forbid you do something without there being metaphorical resonance or irony behind it!”

“What twisted your panties, oh great Alpha?”

“Guys, can we not do this? We were having such a good time,” Scott whined.

“He’s right,” Stiles admitted, unhooking the cables from the laptop then the television. He packed his laptop away. “How was that for proof, Allison? Did I make a cute baby right from the start?”

“Your baby was cute as a circle, Stiles. It’s unfair,” Allison decided. “I swear, Scott, if our children are not as cute as Stiles’, you’ll be sleeping on the couch until they’re 18.”

“That’s an unfair bar,” Lydia said. “Stiles and Derek have the perfect DNA to combine. The Hales are genetically inclined to be gorgeous and the Stilinskis have this irresistible adorableness. Sadie was destined to be perfect. You, however, McCall, have an uneven jaw and several other physical flaws. If you and Allison were to procreate, Allison’s genes would be your child’s only saving grace.”

Stiles tried to stifle the snort, but he couldn’t and Scott glared at him.

“Sorry, sorry, Lydia’s right though. You are one weird looking kid.”

“I’m revoking your best friendship.”

“Sorry, buddy. You’re stuck with me. It’s already been over 10 years. In some states, we would be married by now.”

“What are you blathering on about?”

“I dunno, it’s been a long week. We were making fun of your face. Let’s return to that.”


	9. Chapter 9

“Did you see Derek’s face?” Stiles asked Lydia the next day. He stopped questioning why none of them were ever in class, something about it being spring break. He didn’t even think about college anymore. He couldn’t afford it, and besides all of his extra cash went into Sadie’s college fund. He was doing fine at his 9 to 5 job, and his main concern was Sadie anyway. He knew some of the pack went away to college, Boyd and Lydia and Allison, while some stayed in Beacon Hills and went to the local community college, like Isaac and Scott. He wanted to ask where Cora was, because he missed her probably more than most of the pack, but he had a feeling no one really knew. He figured that her leaving constantly might have something to do with his and Derek’s situation, and was probably more than half Stiles’ fault.

“I see Derek’s face a lot,” Lydia replied easily, flipping through the racks in Baby Gap. They were at the mall, on Lydia’s insistence that she wasn’t allowing her niece to wear Cars paraphernalia every day and that Sadie was a little girl who needed a girl’s wardrobe. Stiles went along with it because Lydia was paying and because he couldn’t exactly break it to her that Sadie destroyed most of her clothes with stains instantaneously.

“I meant yesterday, when I was showing you guys that slideshow? He had this really constipated look when he saw all my pregnancy pictures. Was it really that gross or something?”

“I don’t think he was disgusted, Stiles,” Lydia answered, holding up a frilly dress with a faux belt stitched around the middle.

“Not that one,” Stiles insisted. He may not have Lydia’s eye for baby fashion, or whatever, but he knew his daughter and she would demolish that just as soon as he got it on her. “What makes you say that, anyway?”

“That guy carries a torch for you so big that they could see it from a space station,” Lydia replied. She paused and continued, “With a naked eye.”

Stiles can only scoff, because if Derek really did carry a torch for him, then he wouldn’t be such a raging douche bag to him consistently.

“I’m serious, Stiles! He wasn’t disgusted. I’m pretty sure, if anything, he was aroused.”

Stiles choked on the breath he was taking, coughing and hacking loudly. He attracted not only the attention of the entire Baby Gap, but his own daughter who was sitting rather unhappily in her stroller.

“You okay?” she asked, her wide honey eyes staring up at him.

“Yeah, baby, I’m okay. Are you okay?”

“Okay,” she replied and sank back, clutching Bunny to her chest.

“That is so cute!” Lydia squealed, putting the frilly monstrosity back.

“Okay, you’re gonna have to explain how that look meant that he was aroused, because to me, that’s definitely a disgusted face.”

“Oh, honey,” she sighed. “You had a kid with him. You can’t be that dense.”

“I could be. I had a kid with him.”

She laughed, but it’s a pity laugh.

“I can’t help you, if you won’t at least admit that you are attracted to one another. You liked each other enough to have unprotected sex, for god’s sake, Stiles!”

“Lydia, keep it down, we’re in Baby Gap!” Stiles urged.

Lydia let out an irritated sigh and put the outfit in her hand back on the rack, and dragged Stiles after her out of the store.

“There, we’re not in Baby Gap. Now, seriously, Stiles, just admit that you’re attracted to him. You can’t tell me you’re not, because even I’m attracted to him!”

“I won’t do it.”

“You’re no fun,” she pouted, leading them towards Build a Bear. “Just for that, I’m buying Sadie a new toy, or ten. Go do boy things, and I’ll find you when I’m done.”

“She doesn’t need any more toys, between you and my dad, she’s not gonna have room to play in her room at home!”

“Well, you’ll just have to get a home here to compensate,” Lydia called as she took the stroller and pushed him out of the way. She pushed Sadie’s stroller along, leaving Stiles alone to stare. He sighed and headed to the bookstore, knowing he had to pick up a couple more board books for Sadie while they were in Beacon Hills. She had already tired out the three or four books he had remembered to grab while staying with his father.

He hummed to himself as he swung into the kid’s section, ignoring the weird looks as he picked out books about animals, colors, and letters. He always got the “are you buying for your sibling?” question from workers, and when he brings Sadie in to pick her own books, he fields the “is she your sister?” question. And when people finally understand that she’s his daughter, they always make the “her mother must be a real looker” comment that nearly drives him up a wall. He has little to no patience for the opinions of strangers.

Although, yes, his mother is a real looker, he also happens to be a complete ass.

He somehow questioned his ability to teach Sadie that people were good, that people were trustworthy when his own patience with them was paper thin. He hoped that that wasn’t a thing that Sadie inherited. He didn’t want her to be like him, or Derek for that matter. He wanted her to see the world filled with rainbows and kittens, for as long as she can because he knows how the world can be. He knows, and he never wants his little girl to know the way he does.

Once satisfied with the number of books for Sadie, he moved on to his own interests because he had nothing to do some days when the pack was out doing pack things, or family things. At home he had a job to distract him for half the day and his never-ending novel ideas to keep him company after Sadie goes to bed. But he left the thumb drive with his writing at home, and he doesn’t have a job here. That left nothing for entertainment, and Beacon Hills was never that interesting, aside from its Hellmouth qualities.

He shifted the books under his arm while perusing the young adult section, avoiding the Paranormal Romance section behind him. His life was a Paranormal Romance; he didn’t need to read one too.

“Is there anything I can help you find, sir?” an overly happy worker asked, appearing beside him as he read the front cover of Every Day by David Levithan.

“Oh, no thanks. I’m just looking. Thank you, though,” Stiles replied because even though she did appear out of thin air and cause his heart rate to spike, Stiles was not a rude person. Usually. A bit mouthy, a bit sarcastic, sure, but never rude.

“Alright, well, if you need help, just let me know!” she chirped and bounced away. He set the book in his hand back on the shelf and continued to scan, picking up Partials by Dan Wells. After reading the summary and deeming it interesting, he stacks it, and its sequel with the rest of his pile before heading towards the check out. Except, a dark shadow stopped him in his tracks near the line, broad shoulders covered in an unmistakable leather jacket, ridiculous black hair perfect even from behind. He turned as Stiles approached, arms also loaded with books.

“Stiles,” he greeted with a single nod of his head. “I thought you were shopping with Lydia.”

“I was, I am, I got kicked out so she can buy Sadie more toys that she absolutely does not need. It’s my punishment, I think. I wouldn’t play along with her twisted view on the world,” Stiles rambled. “Thought you’d be at work.”

“It’s my day off,” Derek filled in vaguely. Stiles nodded, shuffling his feet. They’d spent a significant amount of time together, although Sadie was always there to act as a buffer and Derek’s attention was always on her instead of Stiles. They hadn’t been alone really at all, moments here and there but nothing like this. This was awkward, tense, silent, and Stiles couldn’t think of a way out of it. Stiles Stilinski could not think of a single word to say to the man standing before him, and he hated it. Since when is he out of words?

“Uhh, did you know that the male gypsy moth can smell the virgin female gypsy moth from 1.8 miles away?” the words fell out of Stiles’ mouth before he can stop them and he cringed, because where did he even learn that? And why did he feel the need to inform Derek? And sweet Jesus, Derek was doing that thing with his stupid eyebrow, questioning why he ever associated with this mess of a person.  “I mean, no, do you wanna grab a coffee? Before Lydia catches up and mauls me with things I don’t need?”

“I’ve got a- Yeah, sure,” Derek conceded with a nod.

“Okay, great, awesome, we should probably check out first, yeah?”

They moved back into line without another word and a few minutes later, they’re seated inside a coffee shop in the food court. Stiles’ mind is pulling up blanks at conversation starters, and all he could think to say would turn this more awkward. Mostly, he wanted to ask him about the faces he kept making during the slideshow. He wanted to know if Lydia was right, although he isn’t sure what he’d do with that information.

“Any word from your contacts on the pack?” he finally decided on. Derek had been contacting other packs from Beacon Hills to Seattle, trying to sense out where the could-be kidnappers might be. “Any plan of how you’re gonna keep Sadie safe, just in case they figure it out?”

“No, and no.”

“Well, you’re a great help, Derek Hale. I’m glad I have trusted you with the life of our child,” is all Stiles can manage in return.

“You can,” Derek responded. Stiles paused with his cup raised half to his mouth.

“Can what?”

“You can trust me with Sadie. I won’t let her get hurt.”

“I know, that’s why I came here,” Stiles admitted, setting his cup down and turning it nervously against the tabletop. “You can protect her, protect us. You’re a powerful Alpha, no matter what cracks I’ve made, and I know I can trust you with her.”

Derek doesn’t respond, just looked up and around, away, anywhere but at Stiles.

“Besides, she’s yours too, right? I had to believe that if there was anyone who would do anything to protect my baby girl, it’d be you. Again, no matter what cracks I’ve made.”

“I’m starting to worry at the cracks you’ve made,” Derek replied. Stiles startled out a bark of laughter, unable to stop himself.

“Four years and now you’re starting to worry,” Stiles mumbled, taking a long pull from his coffee. “I just want you to know, even if I knew another werewolf pack, you would still be my first choice.”

Derek’s gaze snapped back to Stiles, mouth hanging open a bit.

“There you are! Hello Derek! Look at this cute stuffie Sadie and I made!” Lydia jabbered, dropping into an open seat. Sadie had replaced Bunny in her hug of death with a brand new stuffed wolf.

“You bought the baby werewolf cub a stuffed wolf?” Stiles asked, draining the rest of his coffee from his cup and leaning over to kiss Sadie on the cheek.

“Hi Daddy!” she squealed, never letting go of her new wolf.

“It seemed appropriate,” Lydia answered, grabbing Derek’s coffee and taking a sip before pulling a face. “Your taste in coffee is atrocious, Derek Hale. Only one step above your taste in men.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact; Sadie is based off my brother's kid, Riley. He, like Sadie, asks if you're okay. Most of Sadie's behaviors belong to Riley because he's the only two-year-old I know.
> 
> Find me on tumblr; packyourbagsrightnow.tumblr.com :)


	10. Chapter 10

“Thank you, Derek!” Stiles said for the third or fourth time.

“It’s really no problem, Stiles,” Derek replied with a patient shake of his head.

“Okay, I just changed her diaper before we left so she should be good until I get back. But in case, there are wipes and diapers at the bottom of the bag. She eats just about anything, so just let her have whatever you’re eating for lunch.”

“You don’t need to give me the speech every time I watch her. I understand. I won’t let her get into the candy cabinet, and she’ll do more than just watch movies. I get it. You can trust me,” Derek assured him, lifting Sadie out of his arms and setting her on his hip. She snuggled into his side, more than half asleep from her nap.

“Just, call me if anything happens.”

“Stiles,” Derek warned.

“Sorry, sorry, I don’t leave her alone too often. I’m going, yeah, I’m going. Love you, baby,” Stiles muttered, moving in to kiss Sadie’s forehead. “I’ll be back soon, Monkey. Try not to wear him out too much.”

“She’s a cub, Stiles. She won’t wear me out.”

Stiles laughed.

“Yeah, sure, Derek. You keep telling yourself that.”


	11. Chapter 11

“I have a plan,” Allison said, appearing seemingly from nowhere beside Stiles’ Honda.

“A plan? For what?” Stiles asked as he settled a shopping bag full of diapers and wipes into the back of his car beside the bag of lunch meat and cheese.

“Lydia informed me about your situation.”

“That doesn’t explain anything, nor narrow it down. I have a lot of situations.”

“The aroused Derek situation,” Allison clarified, causing Scott to choke on air at Stiles’ side.

“There is no aroused Derek situation!” Stiles argued, causing Scott to cover his ears.

“La la la la, I don’t need to be hearing this! La la la!” Scott sang childishly. Stiles looked to his best friend, and shook his head.

“It’s like I’m not allowed to have a sex life at all,” Stiles commented. “I mean, I sat through months of hearing about the details of your sex life, when I specifically begged you not to. So don’t give me that, Scott! This is payback.”

“It’s not that you have a sex life, Stiles, it’s that it’s _Derek._ ”

“Yeah, Scott, I had sex with Derek. I had a kid with Derek. If you’d paid any attention in biology, you’d know that in order to have a kid, some sex must happen.”

“But _Derek_?”

“Don’t judge me, okay? It was a weak moment and he is unfairly hot. Was. Is. Shit.”

“You okay?” Allison asked.

“Yeah, what’s your plan?”

“Okay, so you’re surrounded by werewolves.”

“Yeah, that’s a pretty accurate summary of my life. What’s your point?”

“Think about it, Stiles. You’re surrounded by beings with heightened senses. They literally know when someone is turned on. So, I figured we could somehow recreate that. Put you in a belly or something, show him more pictures, but this time, the super sensitive werewolves are going to be paying attention,” Allison explained. “See if they pick up anything. Get it?”

“You’re a genius, Allison. My only problem is, how do we recreate the situation or whatever?”

She opened her mouth and then shut it, “I’m, uhh, actually still working on that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because chapter 10 and chapter 11 are barely chapters at all, I decided to post them both today. Hope that's okay.


	12. Chapter 12

Stiles, Scott, Allison and Isaac all filed into a booth at a local diner, Isaac showing up out of desperation to get away from Sadie’s screaming at the Hale house.

“I feel like I should go check on them,” Stiles said, taking his menu from the cute waitress. She took their drink orders and flitted away to fill them. “But at the same time, that child has given me grief for the past three years, so Derek can deal with her tantrums for an afternoon. Besides, if she gets too bad, I’m sure he can use his Alpha powers on her.”

“But, he’s not her Alpha,” Isaac said.

“I’m not so sure. I have this theory,” Stiles started when the waitress swung back around with their drinks. She flirted shamelessly with Isaac, calling him and only him cutesy pet names as they all ordered. She smiled at Isaac, touching his arm as she promised she’d put their order right in. “Why do I never get hit on anymore? Did having a kid turn me into something unattractive? I want to get hit on!”

“What’s your theory, Stiles?” Isaac asked, shaking his head.

“Alright, well, when the other Alpha picked Sadie up, you know, eyes glowing and everything, she just looked at him with the most unimpressed look ever. She put her hand over his eyes and told him no. My two year old werewolf child told an Alpha no, and I think it’s because she didn’t recognize him as her Alpha, instinctually or whatever. But she’s seemed to take fine to Derek,” Stiles explained, playing with the straw in his soda. “I think Derek might be her Alpha, if only because of their genetic bond.”

“Familial bonds are important to werewolves, like a built-in pack. Although, with Peter as family, I’m not sure if that applies to the Hales anymore,” Isaac muttered.

“It’ll always apply to them,” Stiles replied. “Because even with awful, murderous, undead Uncle Peter, the Hales are three lonely, broken werewolves that need any kind of bond they can latch onto. Cora’s already proved that, actually.”

“Cora? How so?”

“It doesn’t matter. My point stands, they need that bond, Sadie is a part of it, and Sadie knows that. She’s two years old, but she recognizes family.”

The table fell quiet at that, absorbing this information. Stiles twirled his straw again and leaned over to chew on it.

“Remember that week that Coach had to teach our health class?” Stiles asked.

“And he was so awkward because it was sex ed week!” Scott laughed.

“His entire speech for the week was don’t have sex, and if you do, use a damn condom,” Allison added. “What happened with you, Stiles? Did you not listen to his loud, very awkward demand to use a condom?”

“I think I might’ve been laughing too hard, instead of paying attention. It’s not my fault Coach is ridiculous. I could hardly pay attention during Economics, how was I supposed to handle sex ed?”

They laughed, all reminiscing about Sex Ed Week with Coach Finstock.

“Maybe if Mrs. Wheeler had actually taught us, I might’ve known that there’s a tiny percentage of the male population that have a mutation that allows them to bear children,” Stiles said. He laughed and leaned his forehead against the table. “How is this even my life? How am I the point zero zero one percent of the male population that has a makeshift womb and part of the point zero zero one percent of that population that is gay?”

“Is he broken?” Isaac asked from beside Stiles.

“No, I’m fine. I’m just marveling at how statistically improbable my life is. Which it is, in case you haven’t been keeping track.”

Isaac set a firm hand on Stiles’ shoulder and patted comfortingly.

“It’s okay, we all have pretty statistically improbable lives, Stiles. It’s a part of being supernatural.”


	13. Chapter 13

The Hale house was a disaster zone of massive proportions. When Isaac said that Sadie was throwing a tantrum, Stiles had assumed it was her normal give-me-what-I-want fits that she usually gets over at the first sight of cookies or Cars. However, he assumed wrong.

“What happened?” Stiles asked, Sadie running at him with her arms stretched out wide. He leaned down to scoop her up, looking around at the damage she’d caused. Isaac slipped in behind him, heading for the kitchen to put away his leftovers.

“She’s a menace, that’s what happened,” Peter drawled from the top of the stairs.

“Says the talking corpse that tried to murder the town,” Stiles shot back.

“Now, that’s not nice,” Peter replied.

“Neither is calling your niece a menace.”

He shrugged and disappeared, leaving Stiles to wander the bottom floor.

“Derek? You in here, Sourwolf?”

Derek peaked out from the first floor bathroom with a sheepish look.

“Hey buddy, uhhh, what’s going on?”

“She’s, she went into full meltdown, and I had to have a minute,” Derek said, stepping out.

“Yeah, I understand that. I can help you clean up, if you want?”

“Yeah, thanks, that’d be great.”

Stiles set Sadie down on the couch, moving to get Cars 2 out of her diaper bag and pushing it into the DVD player. They set about returning the house to its usual semi-neatness, righting flower pots and tucking away books. They worked in tandem, Cars 2 a soundtrack to their cleaning.

“Hey, I have a question,” Stiles asked as he pushed the dining room chair back into place. “Why didn’t you just, like, command her to calm down? You’re an Alpha, you can do that.”

“I’m not her Alpha, Stiles. It wouldn’t work,” Derek replied.

“Why do people keep saying that? It’s not like she has a pack in Seattle. I’m her pack, Derek. She doesn’t have another Alpha, just you. You’re her father, why wouldn’t you be her Alpha?”

“She’s never been around me, Stiles.”

“She’s never been around any other werewolves either!”

“I’m not her Alpha.”

Stiles growled, grabbed Derek’s hand and marched him over to the couch and shoved him into the cushions.

“Come here, Sadie,” Stiles cooed, picking up his daughter and pausing Cars 2. He sank onto the edge of the coffee table, knees knocking against Derek’s as he settled Sadie on his lap. “Do your Alpha thing.”

“I don’t know what this is supposed to prove,” Derek retorted.

“Jesus Christ, just play along. Humor me.”

Derek let out a growl, but closed his eyes. When he opened them, the green had given way to glowing red and he looked down at Sadie. Sadie stilled in Stiles’ arms, shifting forward towards the Alpha. Stiles leaned to the side to see her eyes glowing golden in return as she stared at Derek, her eyebrows furrowed just like his. And then, she cocked her head to the side, baring her neck in submission. Stiles grinned at his daughter and turned to make a comment about being right when Derek bolted from the room, front door slamming shut behind him.

“What happen? Der okay?” Sadie asked, looking up at her father, eyes fading to their normal golden brown. Stiles knew he had to teach her to call him Dad or something, but Der was just so cute, he had a hard time letting it go.

“Nothing, Monkey. Derek’s okay,” Stiles said, lifting her up as he stood. He carried her into the kitchen and set her down beside Isaac who was sitting at the island bar, chewing on the end of his pen as he attempted the newspaper’s daily crossword. “I have a bone to pick with the Alpha, can you watch her for a bit?”

“Of course, I would love too!” Isaac chirped, dropping the pen and dropping down beside Sadie. “We’re gonna have some fun while Mommy and Daddy fight, okay?”

“What Mommy?” Sadie asked.

“Uhhh.” Isaac looked to Stiles for help as Stiles cackled and disappeared to track down his wayward Sourwolf. He found Derek at the edge of the clearing, arms crossed over his broad chest, glaring at the forest like it had personally wronged him.

“Okay, what the everloving fuck was that, Derek Hale? Your own daughter, your flesh and blood recognizes you as not only her pack but her Alpha and you go all stonewall and storm off like a melodramatic teenage girl? Forgive me for thinking this was a _good_ _thing_.”

“It’s no-”

“And Jesus, Derek, it’s like you don’t even care about her sometimes. I get that you don’t want me; I’ve come to terms with that over the past years. But this is your own child. This is your daughter. She looks just like you, and she knows who you are. She sees that you are hers, and she wants that. She didn’t just pick you because you’re an Alpha. She could’ve picked that Alpha in Seattle but she didn’t. She knew you. She knew you were hers, and she’s two. She can even see that you’re important, why can’t you see that about her?”

Stiles could hear the startup of a tantrum happening inside the house, but he had bigger fish to deal with, grumpy muscled fish with emotional issues.

“Stiles, that’s n-”

“Why do you keep running away from her? If you don’t want anything to do with her, you could say something, and I’ll just go hide us in Mexico or something, I don’t need your help. You don’t have to be burdened with all of this!”

“ _Stiles_ , st-”

Stiles registered Sadie in the background, crying pathetically. He knew he should take this farther into the woods so Sadie couldn’t hear them. She didn’t like yelling. One time him and Tommy had gotten into a fight over something petty and Sadie hadn’t let either of them touch her for hours, screaming and screaming until they apologized and hugged.

“I don’t understand it, though, and maybe I’m biased because I carried her and raised her, but she’s the most adorable, loving child in the world. She attacks you with kisses, doesn’t let you go until you tell her you love her. She won’t eat food if it breaks, which makes feeding her almost impossible. She can watch Cars from the moment she gets up to the time I put her down for bed and she’s perfectly happy. She has your temper, but she’s also the biggest cuddler. How can you not want to be in her life? I just do-”

“STILES, SHUT UP! FOR ONCE, SHUT UP AND LISTEN! Jesus, I forgot how much you fucking talk sometimes. I was _trying_ to tell you that it’s not that I don’t want to be in her life, or that I don’t care about her. It’s not you, either. I don’t, I don’t want to lose her, okay? I haven’t seen or heard from Cora in forever and Peter’s barely family anymore. I don’t want to, I can’t lose her.”

“Is that what this is all about? Not losing her? I won’t let that happen, and neither will yo-  Wait, can you hear her?”

“No? Why?”

“Shit,” Stiles swore, tearing off towards the house with Derek just behind him. He ripped the door open and swung into the kitchen, nearly tumbling over himself when he found Sadie sitting in Isaac’s lap, a coloring book on the floor. Stiles dragged Derek behind the doorway, peaking at them. “Do you see them?”

“What’s this, Sadie?” Isaac asked, coloring on one side of the page while Sadie scribbled on the other, pointing to what she was coloring over. “It’s a fish! Fish live in the water, like the ocean and ponds. Nemo lives in the ocean, with all of his fish friends. Can you say fish, Sadie?”

“Fish,” Sadie lisped.

“Good girl, Sadie. Do you know what also lives in the ocean? Jellyfish, and octopus, and seahorses.”

“What?”

“I know, that’s what I said when I first took marine biology, but you get used to it. Maybe you’ll be a marine biologist, or maybe you’ll be a molecular engineer. Maybe you’ll be as smart as Daddy and Auntie Lydia, and will take over the world. I’d support a world run by Sadie Stilinski, your Daddies would too, and with those two behind you, the world will be your oyster. You definitely have the best life out of anyone, you know.”

“Okay!”

“Yeah, baby, I know you do. And I’m gonna miss you, Princess.”

She looked up at Isaac and her brow furrowed. “Miss you?”

“Yeah, when you go home.”

“Go home?”

“When Daddy and Derek Daddy get you all nice and safe, I suppose you’re going back to Seattle."

Stiles stuffed his fist into his mouth to keep from whimpering. Isaac sounded so sad, and it broke Stiles’ heart.

“No,” Sadie whined. “Stay here.”

Stiles turned and buried his head into Derek, tears pooling in his eyes.

“I know, baby,” Isaac muttered, leaning down to kiss her head. “I want you to stay here too.”


	14. Chapter 14

“Jake says I got good intentions, and I said that I hope he’s right. ‘Cause I’ve been burning every bridge that I can fucking find tonight. The devil’s got a rifle on my front porch, with me in his sights. He knows I came here looking for a fight,” Stiles sang, tapping on the wheel while Sadie danced to The Wonder Years in the back. Derek glanced between them, eyebrows raised.

“Where are we going?” he asked, reaching forward to turn down the music.

“Doesn’t matter, hand me your phone,” Stiles answered, holding one hand out.

“You shouldn’t use the phone while driving,” Derek said, handing the phone over anyway.

“I’ll stop when you do,” Stiles retorted, opening Derek’s contacts and locating his sister. “Can you pause the music for me?”

Once the music was paused, and Sadie glaring at them for shutting off her dance music, Stiles dialed Cora and held the phone up to his ear. The phone rang twice before Cora answered with an irritated huff.

“What could you possibly want now, Derek?”

“Well, that’s not a nice way to greet your best bro in the whole world.”

She paused before saying, “Stiles?”

“Hey Cora!”

“Why do you have Derek’s phone? What’s going on? Are you okay? Is Sadie alright? Stiles, Jesus Christ, I’m going to punch you if you don’t answer me right now!”

“I’m fine, Sadie’s fine, I’m in Beacon Hills with Derek so I have his phone. I made the executive decision that the pack needs you home so they stop worrying about you and can focus on keeping your niece safe.”

“Why do they have to focus on keeping- I thought you said Sadie is fine!”

“She is fine, but she’s also potentially not fine. So you need to come home, because I miss you, and Sadie misses you, and the pack misses you, and your brother misses you, even though he won’t admit it. We need you, so come home. For me.”

She sighed.

“Fine, but only because you’re pathetic, and your daughter is adorable.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you. You’re the best ever, Cora!”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll see you in an hour,” she said, hanging up. Stiles passed the phone back to Derek.

“One problem solved,” Stiles said with a grin, reaching to turn on the music. Derek caught his wrist, fingers holding his hand inches from the button.

“My sister knew about Sadie. She knew, and she never told me,” Derek stated.

“Yeah, she kind of hunted me down after I left. She found me in Seattle, right after I found out about Sadie, and she made me tell her why I left. She came around every month or so, just to check on me and Sadie. I thought, I thought you knew she was seeing me.”

“No, Cora and I don’t talk a lot. She’s hardly home anymore. She requests to check in with other packs and make alliances out of town. She reports back every couple of weeks and then she’s gone.”

Stiles couldn’t think of anything to say. It was his fault that Cora had stayed away from her family when she had just gotten them back. It was his fault that Derek hadn’t seen his sister in weeks, and why when he called she answered like he woke her up from a dead sleep.

“One call from you and she is running home. If I called her, she’d laugh in my face and hang up. But you, you’re the exception,” Derek said. Stiles kept quiet, glancing back at a disgruntled Sadie and reached for the play button on the stereo, turning The Wonder Years back on.

“My daughter is dancing to punk rock,” Derek stated, looking over his shoulder. “What have you done?”

“Excuse me; The Wonder Years are equal parts pop, punk and anxiety. Do not mock them or I will shove you out of this car. Do you understand me? Tommy does that shit all the time and I will not stand for it in either case.”

Derek’s expression closed off, and Stiles tried not to flinch. He should’ve kept that thought to himself, but seriously, he hated people mocking his taste in music, or movies, or whatever. He’d sat through so many stupid gangster films with Tommy without a word, and Tommy couldn’t sit through one sci-fi film without making dumb commentary on how unrealistic it was. Stiles had once made Tommy sit through the worst werewolf film in history without saying a single word, chatting about how unrealistic the transformations were or how the lore was all wrong. Tommy hadn’t spoken during Stiles’ sci-fi flicks for a month.

“Derek?”

“Who the hell is he?” Derek gritted out.

“Tommy? He’s just a guy I know. He’s my friend, he’s Tommy. He looks after me and Sadie, doesn’t let us go hungry when my paycheck’s a bit short. He’s a good guy. What’s the sour look for?”

“No reason. I just don’t like the sound of him.”

“Derek, I need all the help I can get in Seattle. It’s not like here where there’s a whole pack of supernatural beings waiting to pull you from danger and give you a hot meal. I have three whole friends there. I don’t get why you’re upset over this. He looked after your daughter.”

The thought dawned on Stiles as he turned onto a long stretch of dirt road running through the Preserve, just as Derek snarled quietly, “I’m not upset.”

“He’s looking after your daughter!” Stiles repeated, laughing softly. “Jesus Christ, of course you’re upset.”

“I’m not upset!”

“You haven’t had a family in ten years, and someone else is raising your kid.”

“Stiles, where are we going?” Derek snapped as Stiles took a right-hand turn into an even dustier dirt road.

“These are your woods, Derek. Don’t you know?”

“I don’t normally drive through them.”

“Well, that’s too bad.”

They fell silent, the only sound The Wonder Years partnered with Sadie’s cute attempts to sing along. Stiles finally pulled into a clearing that gave way to a small, crystalline lake.

“Is this,” Derek breathed.

“Yeah.”

“How did you find it again? I’ve been looking for years.”

“I used to drive down here every night after, scared I’d forget, scared I’d remember, and when things got bad again, I’d come here and sit with my feet in the water,” Stiles replied, parking his car to the side. He stepped out and moved to let Sadie out, only to find the Derek already had her on his hip. He bit his lip to hide his grin and headed down to the water, Derek following behind. “I always pictured bringing Sadie back here in the summer, teaching her to swim in the water. It helped, because I always pictured you there, sometimes the whole pack was. It was lonely, you know, brand new city, no one I knew, pregnant and homeless.”

“You were never homeless,” Derek said, setting Sadie down but keeping hold of her hand. “You never will be.”

“I know, I always have a home with my dad, and Scott, but I was running away from that.”

“You were running away from me,” Derek corrected, kneeling and helping Sadie out of her shoes. “You want to go in the water, Sades? It’s gonna be cold.”

“I was running away from Beacon Hills,” Stiles said, toeing off his own shoes and stepping into the water. The memory he’d kept tucked away rushed back to him as if it were fresh from moments before.

_- &-_

_Stiles’ actions weren’t his own. When he moved his body, it wasn’t his actions. When he spoke, it wasn’t his words. It wasn’t him drowning Danny in the lake. It wasn’t him shouting out an incantation to hold back the pack. It wasn’t him doing any of this. But it was his body. He could feel its power coursing through his veins, its strength holding him together. He could feel the claw marks across his back and chest, could feel them healing minutely but healing nonetheless._

_“Stiles, you have to fight him!” it was Lydia’s voice breaking through the barricade. You could always hear Lydia, part of her gift. “You’re strong enough. I know you are. I believe you are. He can only control you if you let him.”_

What does she know? _The voice hissed. The voice, the voice that had whispered in his head for months, wearing him down, breaking all his defenses, leaving him worthless._ That’s right, Stiles. You are worthless. You have known since Scott was bitten. You are worthless. You are nothing. The pack doesn’t need you. The pack doesn’t want you. You’re their Token Human. A pet.

_“Stiles! Please! Fight him! You’re the strongest person I know! You kept your father together when your mother died. You kept Scott together when his father left. You keep this pack together on a daily basis, and we can’t be a pack without you. You’re strong, stronger than him. Just fight back!” Lydia continued, yelling over the voice incanting with Stiles’ vocal chords._

Do you really think your ragtag group of broken teenagers can defeat me? _The voice asked. Stiles was so tired, so tired of fighting. He’d been fighting since it had stepped in, filling his limbs with heavy lead and pushing Stiles away from the surface. He buried Stiles deep in his own subconscious, holding him down like he held Danny under the water. He was so tired of fighting. He just wanted to give up, sleep for a little bit. The only rest he’d gotten was when the thing inside him was at his strongest. He didn’t try at those times, what was the point? He was reckless, sure, but he wasn’t stupid._

Why Danny? _Stiles asked._

You really think I am going to tell you?

You really think I’m going to be able to stop you, even if I know?

_The voice chuckled out loud, Danny thrashing beneath Stiles’ hands._

His great-great-great-great-grandfather had me executed. I swore with my dying breathe that I would end his lineage. He’s a threat, and threats must be eliminated.

_Stiles pushed towards the surface, suddenly enraged, stretching out in attempt to get control of his limbs. His hands, at the very least._

_“Stiles, please, save Danny! We need you, Stiles! We can’t do this without you! SAVE DANNY!” Scott yelled._

Ha! Stupid pup, thinks a mere human can stop me. _The voice hissed._

_Stiles faded away, as if in defeat before surging back, pushing and shoving long enough to get control of his hands and legs, throwing himself backwards, releasing Danny. He kept shoving, refusing to back down no matter how tired he was. When this was all over, he was going to sleep for a week and no one could stop him._

What are you doing, stupid boy?

_“Fighting back! Showing you what a stupid human can do!”_ _Stiles snarled out loud, pushing himself farther and farther from the lake. He tripped over a log on his way, body flailing in an attempt to balance as he fell. His head slammed into a rock and his world went black._

-&-

“You scared us so bad,” Derek said, as if he knew what Stiles was thinking, leading Sadie into the water, her shorts rolled up farther on her chubby legs. “You were so cut up and you hadn’t woken up even after the power healed you. You went through that detox and the pack couldn’t leave you.”

“This lake was so muddy when he first brought us here,” Stiles said, taking Sadie’s other hand as they walked her into the water up to her knees. She pulled free of their hands and leaned over to splash in the water. “I still can’t believe I’m alive after being possessed. Actually, I can, because this is my life.”

He laughed, and stared down at the water.

“How did this happen? I don’t think Deaton ever explained it to me.”

“When you pushed the spirit out of you, the excess power poured through the forest. It purified everything it could, because although the spirit was evil, the power was pure. The lake was cleared of all the mud and pollution that had gotten into it.”

“Wow. I did this.”

“You did this.”

“He told me, the entire time he was in my head, he just kept telling me I’d never amount to anything, never be worth anything. He told me that I was just the pet of the pack, a token human. I wasn’t even good at anything, not like Allison is.”

“That’s not true, at all. You did everything for us. You saved our collective asses on multiple occasions, even as the token human. You were important, Stiles,” Derek replied. Stiles shuffled his feet in the crystal clear water, oddly uncomfortable at the compliment. Derek was the one who told Stiles he wasn’t pack, that he was just a stupid kid. He was no better than the evil spirit or whatever that possessed him.

“You never used to talk this much,” Stiles said, changing the subject.

“I guess the pack has been good for me,” Derek said with a small smile. Stiles remembered the first honest to god smile he’d seen on Derek’s face. It was so heartbreakingly gorgeous, he was sure it was illegal in many states. He’d give either of his kidneys to see that smile just once more before he dies.

“I guess it has.”

They stood quietly, watching Sadie take a few more unsure steps before slapping her hands against the surface of the water. She giggled and looked up at Derek.

“Der! Play!”

She looked at him, and then looked at the water. She demonstrated, and then looked back at him, repeating, “Play.”

“Better do it, Derek. She’ll get very angry if you don’t.”

Derek chuckled and crouched beside Sadie, splashing his hands around in the water with her. She grinned and splashed water towards Derek. He splashed back, and her wild baby laugh echoed through the clearing.

“Thank you,” Derek said, glancing up Stiles.

“What for?”

“Bringing my family home.”


	15. Chapter 15

“STILES STILINSKI!” Cora yelled as Stiles pulled up in front of the Hale house. Sadie whined, grabby hands out towards her aunt. Stiles jogged towards Cora, letting her sweep him into a bone-crushing hug. Cora sometimes forgot about her own strength, even though she’d lived her entire life with it. Although, maybe it _was_ because she’d lived her entire life with the strength of ten men that she forgot, because she never had to live without it, because she’d never been a weak human.

“Cora, you’re crushing my spleen,” Stiles wheezed.

“CORA!” an excited Sadie squealed, running towards them and bowling into their legs. Sadie looked up at them, and pushed at Stiles’ legs. “Daddy, no. Go. My Cora. Go. Shoo.”

He let go and stepped back as Cora scooped the toddler from the ground.

“Hi Monkey Butt. How’s my favorite girl in the world?” Cora asked, rubbing her cheek against Sadie’s.

“You know, there was a time when Sadie couldn’t talk and didn’t sass me every time she opened her mouth,” Stiles said, speaking to Derek who had appeared at his elbow.

“Just wait until she goes to school. Cora used to be so quiet, and then she went to pre-k and it went to hell from there,” Derek answered. He had a fond, quiet smile on his face, watching his sister talk to his daughter as they walked into the house. “And I’m sure your father would say the same thing about you.”

“He does. Frequently. He also recognizes that Sadie’s sass may be my fault.”

“May be?”

“Yeah, well, you have your moments so it’s not entirely my fault.”

“You’re raising her. I think it falls entirely on you, the fault that is,” Derek said, brushing past him on the way to the house.

Stiles huffed, following behind.

“I can practically hear you pouting,” Derek teased. When had they reached teasing? Stiles kind of liked it. They’d hardly been at that point _before_ , and now here they were, almost instantly. He remembered when he woke up after his possession, his body worn out and heavy. Derek hadn’t been there with him, but Scott was, and Scott had apparently turned into a gossiping housewife in the days that Stiles had been unconscious.

_- &-_

_“Derek would hardly leave your side the entire time you were out, dude. It was weird, because the very second you’d whimper or groan, he’d be taking away your pain. I mean, we all did, because you were detoxing hard, and it was hard to see you like that. You’re like, the heart of the pack. But it was weird, but I wasn’t even sure he liked you.”_

_Stiles laughed, and groaned seconds later, pressing his aching arm to his stomach. His chest had taken the brunt of the pain, the power welling in his heart and stopping it momentarily as it flooded out._

_“Jesus Christ,” he moaned, leaning his head back against his pillows. Someone had moved Stiles from Deaton’s back room at the clinic where he had spent his days unconscious to his own room. “Being possessed by a massively magical malevolent spirit, zero out of ten, would not recommend.”_

_“You really need to get some more sleep, Stiles. Sleep heals.”_

_“Sleep, yeah. But I just woke up, and you haven’t fed me yet. I’d get up and get myself food, but I just suffered a demon possession.”_

_“It wasn’t a demon,” Scott corrected, standing up from his permanent seat in Stiles’ desk chair. “But, because Derek might murder me if I let you go hungry, so I’ll be right back, Your Highness.”_

_“I’m so grateful I’ve got you, Scott,” Stiles said._

_“Don’t try and butter me up, Stiles. I’m already going to get you food, and then I’ll probably help you to the bathroom later, and, actually, no, butter me up. I’m doing all this for you. Butter me up.”_

_“I mean it, Scott. I’m glad I’ve got you. Danny would’ve died, at my hands, if it hadn’t been for you. It was your voice at the lake, when you said the pack needs me, can’t do it without me. You helped me. You made me save Danny.”_

_“I didn’t, I didn’t say anything at the lake. That was Derek, dude.”_

-&-

“Sheriff,” Peter nodded as the Sheriff joined the Hales, Stiles and Sadie at Derek’s kitchen table later that day for a family dinner. Someone, _cough Cora cough,_ had suggested that Sadie have a normal family dinner once in her life, and someone, _cough Derek cough_ , is wrapped around Cora’s little finger.

“Peter,” the Sheriff said stiffly.

“Wow, this is going so well already,” Stiles said, searching through Derek’s pantry for something Sadie Approved.

“Stiles, dinner is already made,” Derek reminded him, Sadie resting in his lap as she colored (read: scribbled wildly) in the Finding Nemo coloring book Isaac had bought her. That boy really liked fish. He also really liked teaching Sadie about the ocean, so Stiles let it be.

“I know, but Sadie doesn’t eat tuna. I’ve tried, but she hates the smell of it. She got angry the last time I tried to feed it to her, picked up the whole plate and threw it away from her,” Stiles answered. “Watch. Sadie, do you want some fish?”

“NO!” Sadie yelled, jerking up to glare at Stiles like he had personally wronged her.

“How does a face like that make an expression so evil?” Cora mused.

“That’s all Derek,” Stiles said, picking up a box of Kraft Mac and Cheese and scrunched his nose. Sadie would eat about one bite and want something else. He stuffed the box back on the shelf and continued rooting. He turned, bringing a box of cereal he knew Sadie would eat with him. “Although, when Dad gets angry, his expression is just as deadly as that. Isn’t that right, Pops?”

The Sheriff glared but there was no real heat behind it.

Sadie was still in Derek’s arms, her babbles cut off as she stared at Stiles, tracking him closely as he made her a bowl of cereal. She looked between Stiles and the Sheriff, and then as Stiles set the bowl in front of her, turned in Derek’s lap and pressed her face into his neck.

“What just happened?” Cora asked.

“I, I have no idea,” Stiles admitted. He watched as Derek ducked his head and pressed his cheek into her hair. Several minutes passed before Sadie sat back satisfied and smiled. She looked at Stiles, pointing at Derek and said very clearly, “Pops.”

She stared at Stiles, gaze intense as she waited for praise.

“Y-yeah, Sadie. That’s Poppa.”

“Poppa,” Sadie repeated, turning to throw an unbalanced hug around Derek’s neck and a wet kiss into his lips. She smiled at him, waiting for his approval. Except, Derek’s face was doing that stupid thing it did when he was having emotions.

“Come on, Derek. This is your daughter,” Stiles said, setting his hand on Derek’s shoulder.

“Poppa?” Sadie whined, shuffling closer. “Sorry.”

“Do you see this, Derek? You are freaking your daughter out. Please, don’t turn to stone on her.”

Derek leaned in and kissed Sadie’s forehead.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about, Sadie. You’re such a good girl, and I, I love you.”

“Poppa,” Sadie squealed. “Love you too.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm hiding from adulthood by writing Sterek fanfiction. Please do not tell Adulthood that I am here.

Stiles’ phone started ringing the next morning, way too early to be a regular phone call. He seized the phone, and answered it without checking the Caller ID.

“Hullo?”

“Oh, so you are still alive. That’s good. It was nice of you to call, or for you to leave a note, something to let us know you were leaving! Oh, wait! Wait, that’s right, _Stiles_. You didn’t! You took Sadie and you disappeared, for no reason at all. Do you understand how worried I’ve been? How worried Jakob and Ms. Noble have been? Does that even matter to you? Or did you just decide you got sick of Seattle like you did of your hometown?”

“Jesus Christ, Tommy, it’s four-thirty in the goddamn morning! I thought this was some kind of fucking emergency!” Stiles growled, flopping back in the bed, thankful that Derek had asked to take Sadie for the night. Sadie would’ve heard Tommy’s voice and whined about missing him. Derek had been so cute about it, buying a crib to put in his room and giving Stiles a vaguely Scott-like puppy dog face. How was this the same guy that told him they would never work out, that Stiles was a kid trying to be an adult? How could this possibly be the same person?

“This is an emergency, Stiles! Where the hell are you?”

“Why did it take you this long to call?”

“I thought you were having a freak out or something, thought you’d be home in a few days. When you didn’t come home, or call, or smoke signal, Ms. Noble started to call me every day, asking if I’d heard from you. Then she started to call every couple of hours. Where the hell are you, Stiles?”

“Well, I went home,” Stiles answered, rubbing a hand over his eyes. “I’m in Beacon Hills. Family emergency. I’ll be back soon.”

“And you didn’t feel the need to tell us?”

“What can I say? I panicked. Can I go back to bed now, or?”

“I’m coming down there,” Tommy stated.

“What? No! There’s no nee-”

Tommy had already hung up, and Stiles was left dumbfounded.

_- &-_

_Stiles had dealt with malicious spirits set on murdering the ancestor of his own murderer, dark Druids set on sacrificing innocent human beings, Alpha packs who collected Alphas like they were trinkets and crazy grandpa hunters who just didn’t want to die. He gets through each one with a few more scars, both emotional and physical. It isn’t until he’s staring down the barrel of a gun, his pack trapped inside a circle of mountain ash, and Allison tied to a tree with Lydia that he’s actually beginning to feel helpless._

_“There’s no need for your little_ pack _to be harmed, Mr. Stilinski. You’re what we want,” the gunman purred, dropping the barrel from Stiles’ face and aiming it more towards his stomach. “Come quietly and we will leave your friends alone. Fight, and well, I’ve always wanted to see how much wolfsbane it took to take down an Alpha.”_

_“Why do you want me? I’m just a stupid human,” Stiles said, more out genuine curiosity than an attempt at stalling. They were what Derek called Collectors, trying to collect rare and unique supernatural beings. They’d thought they were after Scott, being the True Alpha, or maybe even Lydia because banshee, but they were actually after him?_

_“You think you’re human? Ha! As if.”_

_“Then what the hell am I, if I’m not human?”_

_He grinned._

_“Oh, it’s just delicious how ignorant you are, Stilinski.”_

-&-

“So, Tommy is coming to Beacon Hills,” Stiles said the next day as he picked up Sadie from Derek’s house. Derek had to go into work, and Scott wanted to spend some time with the pair. “And I’m just warning you now because he can be, uhhh, intense.”

“Why?”

“Why? I dunno, maybe he had a traumatic childhood and feels the need to take it out on the world,” Stiles said, tucking Sadie’s foot into a sandal Lydia had bought.

“Not what I meant, Stiles,” Derek muttered, kicking awkwardly at the ground.

“I know. He’s just worried. I disappeared, you know. It’s what I do. I leave without saying goodbye, and someone always eventually comes looking for me. The first time, it was Cora, and now it’s Tommy. Shi- crap happens,” he said. “He’ll see we’re fine, try to help out with some fake family emergency and then he’ll go home because he has a job. It’ll be okay. Just, don’t rip him apart, and everything will be fine.”

“You don’t think it was a good idea to, I don’t know, stop him from coming here and possibly alerting the pack to where you and Sadie are?” Derek asked, the old rough growl Stiles remembered from high school rumbling just beneath the surface.

“Come on, he’s just coming for a few days. He won’t bring the psycho baby-napping pack with him.”

“And if he does? What then?”

“Well, at least we’ll get it over with! At least I won’t have to walk around town scared every single fucking minute that someone is going to snatch away my baby. I won’t have to be on constant alert when I finally just settled into not being hyper vigilant,” Stiles snapped, scooping up Sadie and grabbing her bag from the living room. He marched out, unsure of why he was so angry. He didn’t even want Tommy in Beacon Hills; he didn’t want anyone from Seattle in Beacon Hills just like he didn’t want anyone from Beacon Hills in Seattle. Well, except for Cora, he supposed. Cora belonged everywhere, given that she was Cora Hale and the world lay at her feet.

He hadn’t even been surprised when she’d shown up at his motel room door, pounding on the door like she was intent on breaking it down with her fist. She probably could too. He hadn’t been surprised when he broke down and spilled his entire dilemma, his Derek situation and his male pregnancy problem, and he wasn’t surprised when she promised to return. Cora Hale was, and probably would always be the best friend he had, outside of Scott McCall that is.

He drove to Scott’s apartment and helped Sadie walk up the flights of stairs, because she was a big girl and squirmed when Stiles tried to carry her. She raced down the hall just as Scott opened it, allowing her to duck in and get to the toys before Daddy could stop her.

“So, Derek called and told me to tell you he’s sorry and that he hopes you aren’t mad at him,” Scott said in lieu of a hello, stepping aside to let Stiles in.

“I’m mad, but I’m not sure if it’s at him or at Tommy.”

“Yeah, told me about him too. He’s jealous.”

“I know. Tommy’s been raising Sadie, basically. Someone else is raising his kid.”

“No, man. That’s definitely not it at all.”

“No? Because that’s all it could be.”

“He’s jealous that this Tommy guy gets to be around _you_ , asshole. That picture of you and Tommy cuddling when you were pregnant? That’s what he’s jealous of. I mean, sure, Tommy raising Sadie doesn’t tickle him either, but he wants you all to himself, and Tommy gets to have that.”

“No, that can’t, no, just, no. Derek, no.”

Scott rolled his eyes and shrugged.

“It’s jealously, man, whether or not you can believe it.”

Stiles sat down on the couch, Scott sinking next to him a moment later.

“What even happened with Derek, Stiles? What could be so bad that you left, without telling anyone? What did he do?”


	17. Chapter 17

_The Collectors had walked Stiles out of their trap and left the pack behind in their various state of trapped-ness. They wrapped a blindfold around his eyes, ziptied his wrists together behind his back and pushed noise-cancelling headphones over his ears, spraying him down with a poignant perfume that he was almost positive was deer piss. To stop the pack from following his scent, he guessed._

_They pushed him into the back of a vehicle and they drove, Stiles bouncing in the trunk for what felt like hours. He didn’t even bother to yell, because there was no one to save him. He was going to be collected, and he was going to be put on display for whatever reason. Why hadn’t they wanted Scott? He was a true Alpha, the rarest of rare werewolves. Or Lydia, the wailing woman. Why him? Because he was once a host to a vengeful ghost, because he had some kind of “spark”?_

_They dragged him down a steep flight of wooden stairs, into a basement, and pushed him into a cage. They removed his blindfold and headphones, and wrapped a shock collar around his neck._

_“Be a good boy, and behave. I’ll be back to start your training later. Get some sleep,” the leader of the group, the gun wielder said. He was a big mountain of a man, the kind with a barrel chest covered in hair and big meaty hands with a width larger than Stiles’ thigh._

_He left, leaving Stiles to look around his prison. The walls were lined with cages, some empty but most held malnourished, half-shifted supernatural beings. Stiles spotted an angry looking werewolf in the corner, sniffing the air and glaring at him with glowing red eyes. That explains why they didn’t want Scott, they already had an Alpha. His cage was neighbored by the wall’s corner and a cage with a skittish, tiny girl with glowing yellow eyes. Her features were less wolf, and more fox. Stiles had read about them, werefoxes that is, and he knew they were a rare type of shifter._

_“What are you?” she asked, her quiet voice barely audible over the racket of whines from other prisoners. She reminded him of Erica, pre-bite. Her blonde hair was matted and pulled back into a messy bun, dressed in loose grey clothing. The same collar was around her thin neck, but she didn’t seem to notice it anymore._

_“Human,” he responded, because as far as he knew, that was true. She laughed._

_“The Collectors don’t seem to think so,” she said. “They wouldn’t take you if you were human. They’re far too common.”_

_“I’m not anything but common.”_

_“We’ll see,” she said, sinking into the corner of her cage, curling into herself and falling asleep. Stiles paced, unable to do anything else. Derek was going to kill him for letting this happen. He was going to tear the Collectors apart, and then he was going to kill Stiles. He just wanted to go home, because when he woke up this morning, he hadn’t really prepared himself to be captured. He’d prepared himself for gunshot wounds, bruising, minor cuts, sure but kidnapping, definitely not._

_“Still awake, little sorcerer?” Mountain Man said, banging through the door sometime later, frightening the prisoners deeper into their corners. Stiles stood, crossing his arms over his chest._

_“You think I’m afraid of you? Just because you got a couple of weres in cages? Dude, I’ve faced kanimas, and crazy ass hunters, and darachs, and a whole pack of Alphas! You think I’m going to be scared of you just because you know how to draw a line of mountain ash and can get two teenage girls tied to a tree? I’ve met grandpa hunters scarier than you, and he was dying.”_

_“Oh, they told me you were the chatty one. I thought they were kidding. I won’t underestimate them again,” Mountain Man replied. “Are you ready to be broken, sorcerer?”_

_“Why do you keep calling me that?”_

_“Because, you have magic in you, Mr. Stilinski, a kind of magic that is so pure, so rare that you will be my prized possession. Your magic could unlock the secrets of the world, should you learn to master it.”_

_“I don’t have magic!” Stiles barked. Mountain Man raised his hand and pressed his thumb into the button on a remote. An electric current coursed through Stiles, bringing him to his knees. He whimpered, hands flying to his collar._

_“That will be the last time you raise your voice to me, Mr. Stilinski. Do you understand?”_

_Stiles nodded weakly, and the current stopped._

_“Now, we have some training to start you on.”_

_-_

_Stiles sat with his back against the cage walls, hands shaking as Mountain Man paced the floor._

_“I want results, Mr. Stilinski.”_

_“I’ve been telling you, I’m not magic. I’m just human. You got the wrong pack member.”_

_“You survived when someone of your physique should’ve died.”_

_Stiles ignored that comment and counted the cages in the room, a habit he picked up as a way to calm himself. The number never changed, even though some of the residents never returned to their cages._

_“It seems we need to try more, oh, physical measures, don’t you?”_

_-_

_Stiles burst out of the bunker, his cage neighbor Sadie hot on his heels._

_“We should split up,” she gasped. He ducked his aching body underneath her arm, holding her against him as they stumbled away. It turns out Mountain Man was right, Stiles did have magic, but it was deep and residual. Even Stiles’ four day detox from the magic hadn’t rid it from him completely; instead it had sunk deep into his bones to wait._

_“No, splitting up is never a good idea. I’ll get us to my pack, and we’ll be safe,” Stiles panted, looking nervously over his shoulder even though no one would be coming after them._

_“How did you do that, Stiles? All these weeks and nothing, but he starts to go after me and it all comes out”_

_“I care about you, Sadie. My best theory,” he said, letting Sadie lead them, sniffing for the smell of burning gasoline to indicate the highway. “Is that my magic is connected to my feelings for others. I’m attached to you, I’m concerned for your safety. When he was trying to break me, he wasn’t focused on you, or Cecil, or any of the others in that awful place.”_

_“Cecil,” Sadie sighed. When Stiles had disappointed Mountain Man, he’d gone after Sadie. Stiles had felt the power from the spirit rise inside him and lash out. The collars had fallen from their necks, their cage doors had swung open and Mountain Man had stumbled back. Cecil, the Alpha had immediately taken the opportunity to pounce on the leader of the Collectors, tearing his throat out as the Collector shot him full of a syringe of wolfsbane. The rest of the residents had fled, but Sadie had been too weak to run on her own, and Stiles couldn’t just leave her behind._

_“But we should go before any of the other Collectors come back,” Stiles said, urging her forward. “The important part of escaping I’ve found is making it as far away as you can as fast as you can.”_

_“Okay.”_

_They ran, leaning into one another as they followed the scent of gasoline and humanity. Finally, the woods gave way to an old highway Stiles knew was not far outside of Beacon Hills._

_“Oh, thank god. We’re not far from my pack.”_

_“Will they protect me? Even though I’m a fox?”_

_“They’ll have no other choice,” Stiles answered, keeping himself on the inside of the road between Sadie and traffic. “Because Sadie, you are important to me and they will bend to my will.”_

_She coughed out a laugh, one arm holding her stomach._

_“Will you marry me?” she asked, looking up at Stiles._

_“What?”_

_“We’ve survived being captured by crazy supernatural hoarders, and you used magic you didn’t even know you had to save me. We should get married.”_

_Stiles shrugged, “Yeah, okay.”_

_“So, is your name really Stiles Stilinski?”_

_“No, I picked out the name Stiles. My first name is Polish, and it’s uhhh, a mouthful.”_

_“If we’re getting married, I want to hear it at least once.”_

_“Alright, it’s-”_

_“Stiles, we gotta get off the road. Someone’s coming. They smell, smell like, shit. Get us off the road!”_

_Stiles dragged them towards the forest, nearly tripping over his own awkward limbs. Stiles heard a car squeal to a stop, and their doors fly open._

_“We’ve got to split up, Stiles. Go, I’ll let them see me and run the opposite direction.”_

_“No, we can’t,” he said but she was already ducking out from underneath his arm. “We’ll get caught, and I won’t have that. Go, I can run faster. Go! Get to your pack!”_

_She shoved him away, through the trees. He dug in his heels and marched back to her, grabbing her face and kissing her desperately._

_“Run fast, Sadie. Find your way to the Beacon Hills Preserve, there’s a burnt out shell of a house. Meet me there,” Stiles whispered, turned and ran as fast as his weary legs could over the uneven forest floor._

_“I love you, Stiles Stilinski,” Sadie called out after him. He heard their pursuit of Sadie fade away as he pushed himself towards Beacon Hills. He passed over a stream that he knew was the Preserve edge as a scream ripped through the air. He stumbled and fell to his knees at the stream’s rocky bank, feeling as if the scream had torn through his chest as well._

_“Sadie.”_

_-_

_He didn’t bother going to the Preserve, or waiting in the old Hale house. He knew Sadie wouldn’t be joining him. He knew they’d killed her, that scream so cold and scared there was no way she hadn’t given her life for him. Sadie. He didn’t even know her last name. He didn’t know much about her, actually. She had asked all about him; let him talk as she slept in the corner against Stiles’ cage._

_He went home and curled up in his own bed, and cried._

_“Stiles?” The door swung open and the Sheriff stumbled in._

_“Daddy,” Stiles murmured, standing and tripping over his feet to get to his father._

_“Jesus Christ, Stiles. I was so worried about you. Where have you been?”_

_“I don’t, I don’t want to talk about it. Please. I haven’t slept in days, and I haven’t eaten real food since I left, and I missed you so fucking much,” Stiles whimpered._

_“Oh, of course. Come on, we’ll get some food in you. Do you want me to call Scott? Lydia?”_

_“Just, just Scott would be great. Don’t tell him I’m home, just that you’ve found something.”_

_“Okay, son, it’ll be okay. You’re home now.”_

_-_

_The window slid open the next night, after the tears had dried and Stiles had slept for most of the day, and Derek slid in._

_“Stiles, you’re alright,” he breathed, sinking to his knees beside the bed._

_“As alright as I can be, I guess,” Stiles replied, shifting gingerly into a sitting position. The aches had settled in and his muscles burned every time he moved._

_“Are you, do you want to talk about it?”_

_“Not one single bit,” Stiles said, shaking his head. Derek visibly relaxed, almost comically if Stiles felt like laughing. He didn’t, his stomach still hurt from Mountain Man’s foot, and fists, and umbrella._

_“Can I, can I join you?” Derek asked stiffly, nodding to the bed._

_“Yeah, of course, come on up here, you ol’ softie.”_

_Derek climbed in with Stiles and they both lay down, Stiles cushioning his head against Derek’s chest._

_“I’m sorry we just let them take you,” Derek said, voice strained._

_“Don’t hurt yourself, Derek.”_

_“I mean it; we should’ve fought for you. We just let them take you away, and then they hid your scent and I’m sorry we let, I’m sorry_ I _let this happen.”_

_“You were trapped in a circle of mountain ash, Derek. Allison and Lydia were tied to a tree. There wasn’t much you could do,” Stiles said, reaching out and running his hands through Derek’s hair. Derek moaned quietly, leaning into Stiles’ touch. “You okay?”_

_“I was so worried, I’m sorry.”_

_“If I asked you to kiss me, would you?” Stiles asked, the question slipping out before he could stop it. He’d had to find an anchor in that basement, and he’d chosen his friends. Memories of Scott before the Bite, of researching in the small hours of the morning with Derek’s shadow looming behind him unhelpfully, practicing lacrosse with Isaac, shopping with Lydia… they were the reason he’d made it through._

_“Yes.”_

_“Will you kiss me?”_

_Derek leaned in and pressed a soft kiss into Stiles’ chapped lips. They kissed, and they kissed some more, Derek eventually easing Stiles onto his back._

_“We shouldn’t,” Derek pulled away. “You’re so young.”_

_“I’m seventeen, Derek. I’m not that young,” Stiles replied, chasing Derek for another kiss._

_“We’d be so bad for each other,” Derek said, kissing Stiles’ jaw and throat. “Fire and gasoline, no good for one another.”_

_“Does it look like I care about that right now, Derek? I’ve been locked in a cage with only a skittish werefox and a less than friendly werewolf to talk to. Please, just kiss me and don’t stop.”_

_Derek obliged, kissing Stiles deeply and without abandon. His hands slid up under Stiles’ shirt, rucking it up to his armpits. He ducked out of the kiss to help Stiles out of the shirt._

_“Jesus Christ, what did they do to you?” Derek breathed, staring at Stiles’ bruised chest. He gingerly touched all over, his fingers ghosting over each bruise, each scrape, each cut like he was memorizing them. “God, I wish they’d taken me. I would’ve healed.”_

_“They would’ve killed you,” Stiles murmured. “They only wanted me for the residual magic from that fucking spirit. I don’t really want to talk about this.”_

_“Right, right,” Derek said with a nod, reaching for the waist on Stiles’ sweatpants. He looked up for permission and received a quick nod in return. He eased the sweatpants down Stiles’ legs and tossed them away. “You can change your mind at any moment, you know. I don’t want to pressure you, especially after what you’ve been through.”_

_“Derek, I was beaten, locked in a cage, starved and forced to try and use magic I didn’t know I had under the threat of death. I want this. Please.”_

_Derek didn’t ask again, only slipped his hand underneath the waistband of his boxers and tugged them down. He hissed in a breath, staring at Stiles unabashedly._

_“Okay, yeah, I’m naked, in front of the hottest man in Beacon Hills.”_

_Derek chuckled, and pulled off his own shirt. He stood up from the bed and stripped off his pants and boxers in one go. And Jesus, Stiles had fantasies about what Derek looked like underneath all that clothing, and even his wildest fantasies hadn’t prepared him for the magnificence that was a naked Derek Hale._

_“Okay, that’s just not even fair. Did you fall out of the attractive tree and hit every single fucking branch on the way down? Seriously.”_

_Derek chuckled and crawled onto the bed with Stiles, knees on either side of Stiles’ hips. He kissed the younger man, a wet, dirty kiss that left them both panting and softly chuckling. Derek pulled away, sitting back with a satisfied grin._

_“How on Earth are you a virgin with a mouth like that?” Derek asked._

_“A question I ask myself every day.”_

_“Mmm, someday I’m going to put that mouth to use.”_

_Stiles could only whimper, because Jesus, getting his mouth on Derek’s anything sounded amazing at this point. He could feel Derek’s cock pressing against his own, not even intentionally he supposed but god, even that small bit of friction was perfect, it just wasn’t enough._

_“I n-need, I need you to touch me,” Stiles gasped as Derek leaned forward to kiss him. He grinned into the kiss, reaching between them to take Stiles’ cock in his hand. His strokes were slow and torturous, gentle without being weak. Stiles had never had anyone touch him, and he was still very much a virgin. But if there was one person in the world that you wanted to take that virginity, it was the hot Greek god, Derek Hale. Especially when that Greek god was staring at you like you’re made of the most precious materials in the world. Stiles’ aching body still found the strength to arch up into Derek’s touch, begging for more. He gasped into Derek’s mouth as he did something amazing with his hand that Stiles couldn’t replicate if he tried, and the words tumbled from his mouth before he could stop them. “I want you inside me.”_

_Derek pulled away, his face blank._

_“Are you sure?”_

_“Yes, Jesus. I mean it. I almost died a virgin, and I cannot die a virgin.”_

_“Well, we can’t have that happening, can we?” Derek chuckled, sucking a mark into Stiles’ neck. “Lube?”_

_“Top drawer with the condoms,” Stiles muttered, tilting his head back to give Derek better access to marking up his skin, not that his skin needed any more marks. The bruises could go away, but he wanted Derek’s marks to stick around._

_“Don’t need a condom, but it’s good to know you come prepared.”_

_“That confident that you’re clean?”_

_“We can’t carry diseases, Stiles. Unless you’re worried you’re going to get pregnant,” Derek snarked, leaning over to scoop the lube out of Stiles’ bedside table drawer._

_“The wolf has got some jokes,” Stiles snarked in return. Derek eased Stiles’ legs over his own, spreading them and leaving Stiles open. He kept eye contact as he lubed up his fingers and pressed one into Stiles’ entrance. Compared to being beaten the hell out of for hours on end, this was nothing. It was an odd sensation, but nothing he couldn’t handle. Derek kissed the inside of Stiles’ thigh, twisting his finger before adding another._

_“Okay?”_

_“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Stiles replied breathlessly. “Keep going.”_

_He slowly worked two more fingers into Stiles until he was a writhing mess, moaning and lifting his hips for more. Derek hummed in approval as he watched Stiles._

_“I’m ready, please, Derek. Please,” Stiles whimpered, begged. Derek nodded and removed his fingers, wiping them on the bedspread below them. He lubed his own cock, and fixed his position between Stiles’ thighs. “God, please, I need this. I need you. I need you so fucking much.”_

_“Seriously, that fucking mouth. How are you a virgin?”_

_“I was saving myself,” Stiles said drily with an excessive eye roll. Derek let out a huff of laughter and lined himself up with Stiles’ entrance, pushing it just a bit. He laced his fingers with Stiles’, holding his hands as he pushed in further. Stiles gripped Derek’s hands like a lifeline, wincing a bit at the intrusion, his sore muscles tensing. Derek peppered his face with kisses, easing himself further into Stiles, whispering tiny encouragements._

_Stiles stared up at Derek, watching how content he looked as he stared back at Stiles. In the years he’d know Derek Hale, he hadn’t seen that look on his face. He’d never seen it, and here he was_ causing _it. Stiles did that._

_Derek paused, and unlaced one hand to brush hair from Stiles face._

_“You are so bad for me, you know that? We would tear each other apart,” he mumbled to himself._

_“We tear ourselves apart, Derek. I don’t think we could do much worse to each other,” Stiles retorted. Derek chuckled._

_“How you feeling?”_

_“I’m alright. I, I think you can move.”_

_“Only if you’re sure.”_

_“Yeah, yeah, I’m sure. Move.”_

_Derek started slow, keeping one hand slotted with Stiles’ while the other held his hip. He was surprisingly gentle for a man made of angst and echoing growls, who smiled every once in a blue moon, who didn’t seem to have any interests other than training and being intimidating. Stiles always suspected that Derek had a soft side, a fuzzy underbelly waiting to be rubbed and complimented, although for some time he didn’t much care if Derek was a big ball of affection under that hard, werewolf shell. But now, staring up at this man who was treating him like delicate porcelain and seeing how much he cared about Stiles, it was so startling._

_“Stop thinking, Stiles,” Derek murmured, sucking at a weak spot just behind Stiles’ ear._

_“I wasn’t,” Stiles lied._

_“Mmm, I can practically hear you thinking. Just relax, enjoy yourself.”_

_Stiles smiled, because Derek_ cared _if he was enjoying himself. So he let himself relax, let himself focus on Derek, everything about him that was beautiful and magnificent. Derek had a perfect rhythm set up, and coupled with the sucking at Stiles’ neck, Stiles wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold on. It was only his first time, after all._

_And then, Derek hit just the right place inside Stiles, that bundle of nerves his fingers had just brushed. Stiles bowed up off the bed with a loud, sharp keen that almost echoed in his room. He was so glad his dad had gone to work instead of hovering like he wanted to. He didn’t think he could keep quiet when this much pleasure was coursing through him, racing itself through his systems, burning him from the inside out. Derek kept his pace, slamming home into that spot over and over and over as Stiles moaned beneath him. It was perfect, was all Stiles could think, when he could think that was. He chanted Derek’s name like a prayer to a deity, gripping the back of his neck to keep him close._

_“I’m so close, Der,” he nearly sobbed, burying his head into the Alpha’s neck, rubbing his scent there. “So fucking close.”_

_“Come for me, then.”_

_That was really all it took before Stiles was coming across their chests with a cry, Derek following only seconds behind. He pulled out from Stiles and collapsed beside the younger man, a smile on his tired face. He stared at their torsos, Stiles’ cum painted across them both._

_“Sex, ten out of ten, would highly recommend,” Stiles mumbled, shifting carefully into Derek’s arms and falling asleep immediately._

_-_

_Stiles isn’t sure what woke him, the lack of body heat radiating from Derek or the sound of window squeaking open, but he woke up just the same. Derek, half-dressed and half out the window froze._

_“What’re ya doin’?” Stiles slurred, pushing himself up onto an elbow, rubbing sleep from his eyes._

_“Stiles,” Derek said, his name almost like a curse on Derek’s lips. There’s nothing familiar in that expression, nothing soft or unguarded. This is the Derek Hale that Stiles and Scott came across in the woods that first time, when they were searching for Scott’s inhaler. He was closed off and cold, just like the Derek standing before Stiles._

_“My dad shouldn’t be home for another,” Stiles paused to check the clock. “Three hours. You don’t have to sneak out so soon.”_

_“I can’t stay. We shouldn’t, we shouldn’t have done that. It was a mistake.”_

_It was Stiles’ turn to freeze. He sat up all the way and gathered the blankets around his waist, suddenly feeling exposed._

_“What do you mean, it was a mistake?”_

_“Jesus, that’s exactly what I mean! It should never have happened. Listen, it’s best if we just, if we forget anything happened. You and me, it can’t happen. We can’t be together, and I don’t want you to think that we can be.”_

_“What, what happened? Last night was, I can’t even find words to describe how amazing that was. And now, now you don’t want to even think that it happened? Why are you so ashamed?”_

_“You’re so fucking young, Stiles. You are a child compared to me. If your father ever found out, he could arrest me and throw me in jail for life. I can’t, I can’t do that. You’re too young. You can’t possibly know what you want.”_

_“This isn’t about my age. I’m 17 years old. In some states, 17 is the age of consent. So nice fucking try.”_

_Derek shook his head, “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”_

_“Is this because I’m human? Because I could get hurt? Or is this another Kate thing? Are you afraid you’re taking advantage of me, because you’re older than me? Because I am not you, and you are not her. You’re not going to force me to do anything I don’t want to do, and I’m not going to let you duck out of this, whatever the fuck this is, because you’re scared.”_

_Derek’s cold expression turned steely._

_“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Stiles,” Derek said slowly._

_“Oh, I don’t?”_

_“No, you don’t get it. You’re just a stupid kid who fancies himself an adult. You don’t understand, you just keep throwing yourself into the middle of shit that you don’t belong in.”_

_“Because I’m too young,” Stiles scoffed._

_“No, Stiles. Because you’re not pack,” Derek growled._

_Stiles stood, keeping the sheet around his waist as he pointed out the window, “Get out of my house, Derek. Go. You want your easy way out, take it. Don’t expect to see me ever again.”_

-&-

“I got dressed, packed my shit, and high-tailed it out of town,” Stiles said, staring at his hands, eyes misted over.

“He really told you that you weren’t pack?” Scott squeaked. Stiles nodded. “Holy shit, dude. You should’ve come to me; I would’ve kicked his ass!”

“I know, but, I had to get out of town. I didn’t feel like I belonged. He just confirmed something I’d felt all along. I didn’t feel like pack, not in the same way that the rest of you did.”

Scott and Stiles fell quiet, watching Sadie play with her train set, rolling a battered Mater toy over the tracks while making appropriate car noises. Derek had told him it was a mistake, but Stiles, even though he had spent three years hating Derek, couldn’t bring himself to think that way. It brought him a bundle of sunshine and rainbows and temper tantrums. How could he regret that?

“You named her after the werefox, the one that saved your life,” Scott said, breaking through Stiles’ thoughts.

“Yeah, I did. The only reason I was alive to make Sadie a thing was because of her, because of her sacrifice, so I couldn’t think of anyone more appropriate to name my daughter after.”


	18. Chapter 18

Tommy showed up the next day, calling Stiles while he made breakfast for his father.

“Okay, I’m here. Where are you?” Tommy said, skipping over the social niceties. That was Tommy for you, actually, Stiles thought, dropping a new piece of turkey bacon onto the hot pan with a satisfying sizzle. He must’ve skipped over the social graces lessons in childhood because he didn’t care if you were naked as the day you were born and halfway into a very heavy jerk off session, if he had a bone to pick with you, he was going to pick it.

“Tommy, you didn’t have to come here. I can handle it on my own,” Stiles answered, taking the freshly popped toast out of the toaster and buttering it with his lowfat butter. He’d cleaned out his father’s fridge the first night he was home, throwing out all of the take out and full fat ingredients, exchanging them for healthier options.

He cut each piece of toast twice into four triangles merely out of habit than anything else, scooped a ladle of scrambled eggs onto a plate with the toast and plopped a few pieces of turkey bacon onto the plate before setting it in front of his more-than-half asleep father.

“Come on, Dad. You gotta get some food before your shift, and before the monster realizes you have food,” Stiles said, not even bothering to move the phone from where it was wedged between his shoulder and ear.

“Just tell me where you’re staying, I was driving all night.”

Stiles rattled off his address and gave Tommy a few brief directions before hanging up. He set about making his daughter a plate, doubling the eggs and toast but skipping the bacon. He rinsed out her sippy from the night before, the decaf black tea still coating the bottom.

“Sadie, want juice?” Stiles called, into the living room. She came stumbling out, ran wobbly from sleep.

“Juice!” she cried in return.

“Apple or orange?”

She paused at his feet and stared up before stating, “Apple.”

“Okay. Go sit with Grampa.”

“Okay, Daddy,” she said, wobbling over to join the Sheriff. He pulled her up into the chair beside him, pushing her closer to the table. Stiles filled her cup and screwed on the lid, bringing her Cars plate to the table with the cup and setting it in front of her.

“You sit and eat your food before going to play, okay?”

“Okay,” she said. He knew she wouldn’t. Dare to dream, he supposed.

The doorbell rang and before he could tell Sadie to stay, she was out of her chair, yelling “I’ll get it!” As if he expected anything else, really.

“That’ll be Tommy,” Stiles muttered, brushing past his father with a hand on his shoulder.

“Does he know why you came home?” the Sheriff asked.

“Uhh, I told him it was a family emergency.”

“Jesus, Stiles,” he sighed.

“What, you want me to tell him that a pack of werewolves think I can’t raise my daughter and are gunning to take her away?”

“Daddy, help!” Sadie called, and Stiles chuckled, following after her. He found Sadie at the front door, just too short to reach the deadbolt and open the door for Tommy.  “TOMMY!”

“Hey Monkey,” he cooed, picking up the toddler and swinging her around into his arms, butt pressing into his hip so she was facing Stiles. “Good to see you, Stilinski.”

“Deen,” Stiles replied. He looked over his friend, tall and made of lean muscle, a well-kept head of dark hair and full lips to match. He really was a sight, but not a sight Stiles wanted on his stoop at this particular moment.

“Are you going to let me in the house or do you intend on leaving me out here all day?”

“Well, considering I asked you not to come here, I think I’ll just leave you out here until you go home.”

Tommy sighed and set Sadie down, “I see we’re gonna do this now.”

“Damn straight we’re going to do this now. Sadie, go to Grampa. Eat your breakfast with Grampa.”

“Sades, come here, baby,” the Sheriff called from the kitchen. Sadie went running for the Sheriff, because someone called her name and baby in the same sentence, and that generally meant hugs or food. Stiles reached behind him and pulled the door shut, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Listen, I have a handle of this. I don’t need you to swoop in and be my knight in shining armor. I’ve already got someone who’s trying that. I don’t need two of you. I don’t even need one of you. Please, just go back to Seattle.”

“Not until you and Sadie come home.”

“Home,” Stiles muttered. “I don’t know when that’s gonna be, Tommy. And I can’t let you put your job on hold for me, or Sades. We’ll be fine. I’ve got a whole pa- group of friends looking after us. Big friends, with lots of muscles. It’s fine.”

“What is this emergency that you need big friends with lots of muscles to look after you? Is the mob after you?”

“No, _Thomas_ , the mob isn’t after me.”

“Are you sure, because you left town awful quick and you seem eager for me to leave?”

“If the mob was after me, why would I go back to the place I was born, the place my father still lives? That’s just stupid. It’s just, it’s something going on in Beacon Hills. It’s not mob related, and it’s nothing to worry about. Go home,” Stiles said.

“Let me help,” Tommy said, stepping closer to Stiles.

“I believe he said go home.”

Stiles jerked away from Tommy, as if he was a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Derek stood on the sidewalk, dressed in a nice charcoal grey suit like he did every day for his job, whatever it was. Stiles had asked, and when Derek answered, Stiles had regretted it. He was a lot like Chandler Bing in that way, Stiles decided.

“I’m putting a bell on you,” Stiles said, pointing a finger at Derek.

“Yeah, and you still won’t hear it. I just came by to see Sadie. I have to work late tonight so Boyd and Peter will be coming by.”

“Peter, really? Could we do without the creepy uncle interaction?”

“He cares about her, despite what he says. I don’t think he could afford not to,” Derek said, slipping past Tommy and standing between them. “I’ll make sure Cora is available, to help.”

“You’re so sweet. Whatever would I do without you?”

Derek hummed.

“She’s in the kitchen with my father.”

“Your father, right,” Derek nodded.

“He doesn’t hate you, and he’s not going to shoot you. Even the Sheriff needs justification, no matter what he says.”

Derek slipped inside and even Stiles could hear Sadie shout “POPPA!” from the kitchen without Derek having said a word. His heart swelled, because his little girl knew her other father, and she loved him, and he loved her, and for once, that wasn’t a concern.

His first concern was Thomas Deen, standing before him with a slightly angry look on his stupid face, arms folded across his chest.

“So that’s the guy who knocked you up, huh?” Tommy said, his stance defensive and his face even more so, like he expected Stiles to lash out at him. If he kept looking like that, however, Stiles might just do that.

“Yepp, that’s Sadie’s dad, other dad. He’s a good guy, cares about Sadie and he’s so good with her. She’s taken to him so well, too. It’s a dream come true,” Stiles said, trying to keep the fragile peace between them. He wanted to say whatever it took to make him leave, to make him forget Stiles and Sadie ever existed, for his own safety and the safety of Stiles’ child.

“Always thought I wasn’t enough,” Tommy commented.

Stiles let out an exhausted sigh. “You’re not her father, Tommy. You’re a big help, and you’re one of Sadie’s favorite people, but I can’t deny Derek the right to see his own daughter. Between you and him, he always wins on this one.”

“Even after he broke your heart?”

“This isn’t about my heart, and whether or not he broke it, Tommy. This is my daughter’s father. I want her to have both her parents in her life for as long as she can.”

Tommy stared down at the ground, picking guiltily at the hem of his t-shirt. Stiles had locked all of his doors and held Sadie close all day on his mother’s birthday that first year that Sadie was alive, scared he’d leave his baby girl alone with no parent in the world. He was angry at his mom sometimes, for leaving him but staring down at his defenseless baby, he couldn’t imagine what she felt, leaving her family when she didn’t want to.

“Anyway, I don’t need help looking after Sadie, since I don’t have to go to work, and I’ve got at least 10 people to watch her. You can go home. Plan that epic twenty-fifth birthday party for Jakob, and help Ms. Noble garden. You’re more helpful in Seattle, not getting in the way.”

“Of what?”

“Things, okay! I have a friend, and he’s in a spot of trouble,” Stiles lied. He hadn’t really had to lie since leaving Beacon Hills, but lying came back to him so easily. It scared him, because it was a testament to just how awful of a person he was in high school. “Scott called me, asked me to help him out.

“Who is this friend? And what kind of trouble is he in that _you_ could help him out?”

“It doesn’t matter who he is, and what the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Come on, Stiles. You’re a twenty year old high school drop-out, raising a toddler on your own on minimum wage. What do you really have to offer?”

“Wow, Tommy. Fuck you. If you’re trying to get on my good side, you’re not doing such a good job of it. I didn’t even want you to come here. If you’re not going to be nice, you’re going to have to go.”

Tommy stumbled back, as if Stiles had struck him.

“Go find a hotel, Tommy. I’ll call you when I’m done being angry at you. Stay away from Sadie,” Stiles said, heading back inside. He shut the door and leaned against the door.

“You okay?” Derek said, leaning against the arch into the living room.

“Heard all of it?”

“You defended me,” Derek answered.

“He insulted my baby daddy, what was I supposed to do?”

“I deserve it, every word of it. I was,” Derek started when Sadie ran out, holding a triangle of toast out to him.

“Poppa, toast!”

“She brought me toast.”

“It’s her way of showing affection,” Stiles replied. “Just take the toast and go before she tries to bring you her plate of eggs and her apple juice.”

Derek dropped to a knee and took the triangle from the toddler, pressing a quick kiss to her temple. “Thank you, Sadie! That was very thoughtful. I have to go now, though. Give Puppy a hug for me, Princess.”

“No go,” Sadie whined.

“I know, I don’t wanna go, but I have to go to work. But Daddy will be here with you. Uncle Boyd and Uncle Peter will come over. You won’t be alone,” Derek said, pushing stray hairs from Sadie’s face. “Never, because you’ve got pack now.”

“Pack,” Sadie parroted. Stiles pretended not to see the proud father grin that spread across Derek’s face.

“Yeah, and pack won’t leave you, ever.”

“Okay,” she said softly, touching Derek’s face with a crumb-covered hand. He didn’t seem to care. “Pack won’t leave.”


	19. Chapter 19

Sadie went down for a nap in the crib the Sheriff bought and stuck in the spare room before either Boyd or Peter showed up, and when she woke up an hour later, Stiles was still all by himself. He didn’t mind, because he didn’t need to be babysat, but having supernatural bodyguards was kind of cool. It beat having to fight off baddies by himself, that’s for sure.

Stiles figured this was just the calm before the storm and everything, but he was actually enjoying himself. He was back home, Beacon Hills’ familiar ground beneath his feet and his friends surrounding him. Although, not right now. Now he had a cranky two-year-old and an empty childhood home.

“Honey, I’m home,” Isaac’s voice floated in from the front door.

“Shouldn’t you be in class?” Stiles called back, searching through the cupboards for something to snack on before dinner. Nothing even sounds close to appealing, even though there is a whole pantry full of whole grain crackers and low sodium chips. Even Sadie didn’t seem to want anything, just staring at the cupboard with a vague disinterest. She just wanted to be in Stiles’ arms, nuzzling her nose into his throat. “Why is no one ever in class?”

“Professor never showed up, came to check up on you guys. Where are Boyd and Peter? Isn’t it their turn to keep you safe?” Isaac replied swinging into the kitchen.

“Never showed up,” Stiles echoed. “What do you think, Monkey? Popcorn or chips?”

“No.”

“No? You don’t want any num nums? That’s not normal. Are you feeling okay?” Stiles asked, pressing his wrist worriedly into her forehead. She always felt warm to him, being a werewolf. “Isaac, come here. Feel her forehead for me.”

“Why?”

“Because werewolves are warmer than humans, so she always feels like she has a fever to me.”

Isaac obeys, mimicking Stiles by pressing the inside of his wrist against Sadie’s forehead. He frowns.

“Yeah, she does feel a little warmer than normal,” Isaac reports, stroking Sadie’s hair.

“She ate this morning but she wasn’t really her usual self, getting into everything and being loud. Plus, she’s been a cuddle bug all day, which is cute but not normal. But turning down chips is definitely not a good sign.”

Isaac leaned in and kissed Sadie’s forehead.

“Hey baby, do you want to go see Uncle Isaac?”

She nodded minutely and Stiles passed her carefully into Isaac’s arms. She snuggled into closer and sighed happily.

“Isaac,” she murmured.

“God, she’s cute,” Isaac whined. “I want one!”

“Why do people keep saying that? I promise, she’s not this adorable all the time.”

“I doubt that. She’s adorable all of the time, aren’t you, Sadie?”

“You say that, just wait until she has colic and you haven’t slept in thirty six hours because you’ve spent the entire time rocking her and trying to get her to calm down enough to sleep just a few hours. That’s not so adorable.”

“Maybe, but I still want one.”

“You should definitely wait until you’ve got a reliable job, and someone who’s going to be there to raise her with you. Being a single parent is no walk in the park, man, and not everyone lets you off easy.”

“Lets you off easy?”

“Some people, they’ll give you a free month of rent, or a free meal. They’ll look after your kid when you’re at work, because your babysitter flaked. Some people are nice about it. Then there are the people that make your life harder. They demand you pay every bill right on time, demand you be at work on time every day no matter if your kid didn’t sleep that night because of nightmares and she doesn’t want to let you out of her sight. They think you’re stupid to be raising a kid all by yourself, think the mother was a flake who left as soon as the kid was born, and think that you’re an awful human being because you drove the mother away. People think single mothers are heroes for raising a kid without the father, but if you’re a single father? They think you’re useless, that you’re in over your head, like without a mother, a father can’t possibly handle parenthood,” Stiles stated with a slightly bitter shrug.

“I think you’re a hero,” Isaac said, looking down at the half-asleep toddler in his arms. “She’s a little monster, sure, but you’re doing a great job at raising a baby werewolf. It takes an entire pack to raise a cub, Derek says. And you’ve done so well all on your own.”

“Well, it takes a village to raise a child, and I would’ve been Sadie’s village and pack either way, human or werewolf.”

“I know,” Isaac said, leading them out into the living room. He sank down into the cushions of the couch, careful not to jostle Sadie. “Some days, Sadie looks just like you, and then sometimes she’s the spitting image of Derek. How is that?”

“No idea. When she was first born, she was a miniature Derek, with a head full of dark hair and she glared at me when I didn’t immediately feed her the second she was hungry.”

“Sounds like Derek’s offspring.”

“You want to watch a movie or something?”

“I want in,” Cora said from the doorway, sinking onto the couch and kissing Sadie’s cheek. “Hi Monkey.”

“Pick out a couple bad sci-fi movies; I’ll get the popcorn going,” Stiles said, heading back to the kitchen to start a bag of popcorn and refill the sippy cup Sadie left on the ground, this time with orange juice. Cora came out with her favorite movie, Stiles’ favorite, and Isaac’s.

“Can I ask you a question?” she asked as Stiles pulled down the popcorn bowl from the air popper his mother had when he was little. Sometimes, when Sadie was a good girl and Stiles had time, he’d teach Sadie how to add kernels into an air popper Ms. Noble had, and they’d have a movie night with just the two of them.

“Yeah, but I suppose you’re gonna ask anyway.”

“Of course, I am. Why are you being so nice to Derek?”

“He’s Sadie’s father?” Stiles replied, staring at Cora. She shook her head.

“That’s a stupid reason to forgive him. You’re being so nice to him, laughing and joking around with him, _teasing_ him. You’re nice, and I don’t get it. I can’t even forgive him, and he didn’t tell me I didn’t matter after he took my virginity.”

“God, I hope not. That’s weird.”

She glared at him with the intensity that only a Hale could muster.

“The point is, Stilinski, that you don’t have to be nice to him just because he’s Sadie’s father.”

“It’s been three years. I gave up on being angry at him the minute I held Sadie for the first time, because maybe breaking my heart wasn’t necessary, but he did give me her. Besides, I spent so long being angry at him, hating him because of what he did to me, that I just got so tired. Keeping up a constant hatred for a man who isn’t even in your life is so exhausting,” Stiles sighed, scrubbing his hand through his hair. “On the other hand, I didn’t forgive him, exactly. But Derek will be in Sadie’s life for a while. I can’t just hate him actively, that’d be insane. I’m not about to hop back into bed with him and leave myself open like that, _however_ I’ve set aside my feelings about that. He doesn’t deserve to be forgiven, but he had a reason, right? He had a reason, so he doesn’t deserve to be hated.”

“You are far too generous.”

“A lot of people would forgive him automatically.”

“Listen here, Seahorse, Derek is my brother and I love him with all my heart. I would do anything to keep that boy alive, but I wanted to _kill_ him when you told me what he said to you. He said those things out of fear and he does deserve to be hated. Some people would forgive him, sure, but those people don’t have to be you.”

“Why are you so set on me hating your brother?”

“Because I don’t want to see you leave again.”

“I have to leave, Cora. Seattle, that’s my home.”

“You’ve been calling Beacon Hills home for the past three days, don’t bullshit me.”

_Had he?_

“Now, let’s watch our favorite movies and maybe you’ll come to your senses by the end of Where The Wild Things Are.”


	20. Chapter 20

“Shh, I just got Sadie to sleep,” Stiles hushed Derek as he stepped inside the next morning.

“It’s 5 in the morning,” Derek whispered.

“She was up all night crying,” Stiles explained. “She’s getting sick, I think.”

“She can’t get sick,” Derek replied.

“Yeah, you tell that to my sick two-year-old who couldn’t sleep she was so miserable. It’s like her colic all over again.”

“Stiles, werewolves don’t carry diseases. We’re immune. Sadie shouldn’t be sick,” Derek said. “Something’s very wrong if she’s sick.”

“Well, she has a fever, she can’t breathe well and she isn’t eating. Plus, she’s been a bit pale than normal today. She’s sick.”

Stiles ran a hand through his hair.

“Maybe it’s just a 24-hour werewolf thing,” he reasoned, looking up at Derek as his father stumbled down the steps. “Do you get those?”

“Not generally,” Derek answered. “I have to get to work, if Sadie’s asleep.”

“What do you even do?”

“I’ve explained it, and you always just stare at me with this blank face. I’m not doing it again,” Derek said with a roll of his eyes.

“Will you be home in time for dinner?” Stiles asked, and winced. “That was very housewife of me, I’m sorry. It’s just, I was hoping your presence might help Sadie, being her Alpha and father. She barely ate all day, except for breakfast. It’s just worrying me.”

“I’ll be home,” Derek muttered. “Just promise me that you’ll let me take her to Deaton if she gets worse.”

“I promise.”

Derek leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of Stiles’ lips, and sighed, “That’s good. I’ll see you later for dinner.”


	21. Chapter 21

Two days passed and Sadie hadn’t gotten better. She was miserable, and Stiles couldn’t handle it. He cuddled Sadie close to his chest, Bunny between them as they lay on the couch.

“It’s okay, baby girl. It’s okay, I promise. We’ll get you better. Once Poppa gets home from work, we’re gonna take you to Doctor Deaton and he’s gonna check you out. He’s a veterinarian, like Uncle Scott’s going to school to be. And if Deaton can’t figure it out, I’m taking you to Aunt Melissa because she’s a nurse. Nurses assist doctors when they heal people. Whatever it takes,” Stiles muttered, stroking Sadie’s back gently. “I’m going to get you better, I promise.”

“Stilinski,” Peter Hale said, letting himself into the Stilinski house.

“You’re about three days late, Peter,” Stiles said. He lay Sadie onto the cushions on her stomach, where she shuffled closer to the back of the couch, Bunny clutched to her chest while she wheezed unevenly. Stiles hadn’t slept much in the past three days, not just because Sadie didn’t but because he was afraid her wheezing might stop during the night.

“Can’t an uncle care about his niece?”

“Did Derek send you?”

“Believe it or not,” Peter said, entering the living room and falling gracefully into the love seat. “I can go places without an order from our Lord Alpha.”

“What are you doing here, then?”

“I came to see if there was anything I could do to help,” Peter said, leaning forward. Stiles stood between them, hands on his hips. “With your permission, of course. I can help. I read more myth and lore than Derek did as a kid. I may know something about Sadie’s illness.”

Stiles glanced at his pale, shaky daughter lying on the couch cushions and back to her great-uncle, casually leaned against the loveseat.

“Do what you have to, but I will kill you in the most painful way I can imagine if you hurt her in any way.”

“Oh, Stiles, I would never harm a cub,” Peter soothed, standing. “Let me take a look.”

“Okay, just, be careful.

Stiles stepped out of the way and let Peter kneel down beside the couch, stroking the side of Sadie’s arm gingerly, like she was made of the most fragile porcelain. He moved his hand to her bare back and stilled, black veins running up his arms as he siphoned off Sadie’s pain just enough for Sadie’s wheezing breaths to even out and she slipped entirely off to sleep.

“Derek tried that last night,” Stiles stated, sinking onto the coffee table. “Why didn’t it work?”

“Maybe he didn’t take enough, or maybe she wasn’t in pain last night. A number of things could’ve caused it not to work,” Peter answered, pulling his hand away and flexing it. “She carries a lot of pain for such a little girl, and so bravely. If I were that hurt, I’d be sobbing constantly. You are raising one hell of a little girl.”

“When Derek held the vote to protect Sadie, why did you say no?”

“Derek has had enough pain and suffering, enough loss. When he became attached to that child, and you left for Seattle again, he would be heartbroken. I thought, I thought maybe if I prevented him from getting close to her, I could stop the heartbreak you’d bring on him.”

It was Stiles’ turn to still, because what was he doing? He was giving Derek something to care about and then taking it away him, planning to leave as soon as he was done using Derek.

“Oh, god,” Stiles breathed out. Peter shifted Sadie gently onto her back and pulled Bunny from her grasp. She barely whimpered, a sign of just how asleep she was. “What’re you doing?”

“I’m going to listen to her breathing, her heartbeat, to try and figure out what’s going on inside Miss Sadie Mae. There’s also a weird smell, tickling my nose, but I can’t put my finger on it.”

Stiles kept quiet as Peter put his ear to his daughter’s chest, keeping his fidgets to himself while he waited. A few minutes later, Peter sat back and shook his head.

“I’m sorry, Stiles. I can’t find any cause.”

“It’s, it’s okay. I appreciate you trying.”

“But that smell,” Peter started before he shook his head. “There’s something familiar about it. I can’t place it.”

“Thank you,” Stiles said, putting his hand on Peter’s arm, touching the werewolf for the first time in so many years. He had avoided touch with the man since he met him, honestly. But he was caring for Sadie, and Stiles wasn’t going to shun the guy for that. “I mean it. I’ve said so much shitty stuff about you, but dear god, when you’re a good person; you’re an actual good person. Be this person more often, Peter.”

“If I’m this person more often, you wouldn’t appreciate it.”

“Okay, how about this, be this person with Sadie. This is all I ask, okay? Just be this person with Sadie.”

Peter looked to Sadie, and brushed hair from her face, then nodded. “I think I can manage that. For her.”


	22. Chapter 22

“It smells like Peter in here,” was the first thing Derek said when he walked in that night. Sadie pulled herself up from where she was laying on the ground playing with her toy cars and stumbled towards him. He lifted her up and nuzzled into her neck. She whined and snuggled closer.

“Yeah, your uncle stopped by, and he took some of Sadie’s pain. He also listened to her chest, but there wasn’t anything he could hear that was wrong. He said there was a bit of a smell, but he couldn’t place it.”

“Peter, my uncle Peter stopped by?” Derek asked. “Willingly?”

“Yeah, I was confused too. But he was so good with her, gentle and caring. It was bizarre. She’s alright, though. He didn’t hurt her or anything.”

“Since Lydia brought him back, he’s been much better about being creepy and scheming.”

“I’m so glad,” Stiles said with a roll of his eyes. “Why didn’t Boyd show up the other night, when Isaac and Cora stayed over?”

“He got held up at school,” Derek answered. “He called, so I called Cora.”

“That explains her sudden appearance that night,” Stiles said with a nod. “Isaac just showed up because he was bored, and needs a cuddle buddy at almost all times.”

Derek laughed and slid his hand underneath the back of Sadie’s tank top. The same black veins that travelled up Peter’s arm just hours before travelled up Derek’s today. Stiles sometimes wished he could do that, ease his baby’s pain just a bit so she could sleep, breathe, eat, anything. But he had a pack full of werewolves willing to be her morphine.

“That’s a good girl,” Derek cooed into Sadie’s ear. “How are you feeling, Stiles?”

“Me? I’m fine, tired because I haven’t slept, but other than that, I’m okay. How about you? You might be more susceptible to whatever she has.”

“I feel great, actually. I hate that I’m so healthy while she’s so sick, but I am.”

Stiles looked between Sadie and Derek, nuzzling and scent marking each other gently.

“I’m gonna start some dinner before we head to Deaton’s, see if we can get her to eat something. Sadie, do you want grilled cheese?”

“Grilled cheese?” she piped up, sitting up in Derek’s arms.

“Yeah, baby, grilled cheese, and maybe we’ll try some soup. You’ve never had soup before! Are you excited?” Stiles asked, tickling at Sadie’s sides. Derek followed Stiles into the kitchen and set Sadie down on one of the barstools. She reached for the coloring book kept on the counter with a pack of crayons, which Derek slid towards her. “Say thank you.”

“Thank you,” Sadie said with a smile.

“Well, she’s smiling so that’s an improvement,” Stiles commented.

“It’s just because she isn’t feeling all of the pain. We’re still taking her to Deaton,” Derek said, running his hand through Sadie’s hair. She leaned into the touch but didn’t stop coloring (read: scribbling without abandon).

“I wish I could just make her better, you know? She’s so miserable, and it’s my job to make her better but I can’t. I’m useless.”

“You’re not useless. Cuddling with you makes her feel better. Being around you makes her sleep better.”

“But I can’t take her pain away. I’m good for, what, hugs?” Stiles said with a self-deprecating laugh, gathering bread, butter, cheese, and a can of chicken noodle soup from the cupboard.

“Stiles,” Derek muttered, following Stiles around the island bar and crowding him into the pantry doors. “You’re not just good for hugs, Stiles. You’re her father, she needs you. You gave birth to her, and you’re raising her. You are the most important part of her life, and she _needs_ you more than she needs me, or Isaac, or your father. You need her and she needs you, and there’s no one in the world that can replace you in her eyes.”

Stiles couldn’t look away from Derek’s green eyes, their chests inches apart. He’d grown a bit since he left, leaving him and Derek at the same height. He was so close that Derek’s warm breath tickled his face, and he couldn’t concentrate.

“You are not useless,” Derek said, leaning his forehead against Stiles’. Stiles’ arms wrapped around Derek’s waist, without his consent, and tugged the Alpha closer. Derek dropped his head down onto Stiles’ shoulder, rubbing his cheek against his neck slowly. “You will never be useless. We will get Sadie better, and you’ll be chasing after her to stop her from destroying the house, and hurting herself. Everything will be fine.”

“Sounds like you’ve thought about this a lot,” Stiles replied.

“Ever since I first saw Sadie,” Derek stated. “I can’t stop thinking about how you were pregnant, how I made you that way, and how you brought this beautiful little girl into the world. I never should have pushed you away like that.”

“Are you just saying that because you actually mean it or because you have some weird pregnancy kink?” Stiles asked.

“Both.”

“Good to know.”

“ _Stiles_.”

“What?”

“Stop talking,” Derek growled and pressed his lips to Stiles. They stood, stunned before Stiles slid a hand into Derek’s hair and pulled him close. He wasn’t sure whose tongue slipped into the other’s mouth first but soon it was a free for all of tongues and teeth, inelegant and sloppy.

“What doing?” Sadie asked tugging on Stiles’ pants and pulling him back into the kitchen. They looked down at her, their hands falling away from where they rested on each other.

“Nothing, Sades. Pops and I were just, nothing. Want food now, baby?”

“Yeah! Food!” she crowed with a smile wider than he’d seen in days.

“We’ll talk about this later, right?” Stiles asked, catching Derek’s hand in his own. Derek smiled and how had Stiles never noticed that Sadie had gotten Derek’s smile?

“Stay over with me tonight,” Derek said.

Stiles grinned, “Yeah. Okay. I think I can manage that.”


	23. Chapter 23

Sadie sat on the edge of Deaton’s metal exam table, kicking her feet lazily as she stared at Doctor Deaton.

“And you said there was a smell?” Deaton asked, looking to Stiles and Derek.

“Peter mentioned it earlier, yeah,” Stiles answered. “He said it was familiar, but he couldn’t place it.”

“Derek, did you notice this smell as well?”

Derek nodded, touching Sadie’s shoulder like he needed an anchor.

“It smells, I don’t know, like a mixture,” Derek answered. “But it’s inside her, not on her skin or in her clothes.”

“It’s entirely possible that Sadie has ingested either wolfsbane or mistletoe,” Deaton replied. “Stiles, can you lift her shirt?”

“Sadie, where’s your belly?” Stiles asked. The toddler looked at her father before she lifted her shirt and pointed at her belly button. Deaton pressed his stethoscope into Sadie’s chest, listening intently.

“There are no irregularities in her heartbeat,” Deaton said, pulling away. Sadie coughed, gripping the table as it racked her whole body. Stiles stepped up, pulling Sadie’s hands up over her head and pressed a kiss into her forehead until she was done.

“Hey, you okay, Monkey?”

“Yeah, you okay?” she replied.

“Yeah, baby, I’m okay. Where would she have ingested either of those? She’s always with one of us, and wouldn’t that be an immediate poison thing? She’s been feeling bad for days, but sometimes, she’s fine.”

Deaton hummed and went about his examination.

“Daddy!” Sadie said about halfway through. “Story!”

“Story time? Why do you never want a story when you’re at home, and half asleep! Okay, let’s see,” Stiles said, rolling his eyes. “When I was little, Monkey, I had the most beautiful mother in the world. She was patient, and kind, and baked cookies to make our house smell like a home. She smelled of cinnamon and brown sugar, and had a laugh like wind chimes. See, the most wonderful thing about my mother was that she was strong, strong right to the very end. She was stubborn, just like her father, and my father, and your father, both of them. When dealing with Stilinskis, Sadie, stubbornness is an ideal trait. When I was about 5 years old, my friend Heather and I decided to go wandering in the woods while our mothers had coffee and gossiped. They were little ol’ biddies in that respect. We wandered too far, were gone for too long, and Heather was getting scared. Your daddy was stubborn and said they could totally make it to the creek, where they wanted to play before the sun went down. Except, Daddy had an awful sense of direction back then and got them lost.”

“Back then,” Derek snorted. Stiles shot him a look and pointed a warning finger at the alpha.

“Heather and Daddy sat on the forest floor and cried, and cried until their mommies showed up. Heather and her mommy went home, and your Daddy was in big trouble. My mommy sat me down, wrapped me in a big blanket, and told me how much I scared her. Once I promised that I wouldn’t go into the forest alone again, my mommy made me a cup of hot cocoa and we popped popcorn and watched our favorite movies. And when we get home, baby girl, we’re gonna wrap you in a big blanket, pop some popcorn and we’re gonna watch our favorite movies, because like my mommy did me, I love you, and you being sick scares me.”

“Sorry,” she muttered.

“Oh, it’s okay, Sadie. I know it’s not your fault. None of this is your fault, at all.”

“Okay,” she smiled.

“I can’t find any source of Sadie’s sickness,” Deaton said, setting down his clipboard. “I’m sorry, Mr. Stilinski.”

“Thank you for trying, though. Is there anything I can give her to help her sleep until we figure it out?"

“Nothing safe for her age,” Deaton replied. “Although, when I was a child, my mother would brew me chamomile tea when I couldn’t sleep.”

“She’s two, she doesn’t drink hot tea,” Stiles reminded him.

“Then give it to her iced. It safely relaxes children and promotes drowsiness. It also soothes upset stomachs and colic, as well as teething pains and anxieties. You might also benefit from a cup, Mr. Stilinski.” He glanced at Derek. “You too, Mr. Hale.”

-&-

“Ahh, that’s my girl,” Stiles cooed, laying an already sleeping Sadie down in the crib in Derek’s room. “I’ll see you in the morning, Monkey.”

She hummed in her sleep, turning and gripping Puppy to her chest. Stiles backed out of the room, flicking on the night light that threw constellations onto the ceiling and walls. He latched the door shut and let out a breath, turning to find Isaac dressed in a nice white v-neck underneath a cardigan with a pair of dark, new jeans.

“Hey Isaac, what’s up?” Stiles asked.

“Nothing,” Isaac stuttered, hands shaking a bit as he went to stuff them in his pockets.

“Liar, what’s going on?”

“I have a date, actually. I was hoping I could sneak out before Derek caught me. He’s been curious more often, and I can’t handle another alpha talk about safe sex.”

“He’s really no one to talk. I’ll distract him. You go out, have a good time,” Stiles replied, clapping Isaac lightly on the shoulder.

“Would you?”

“You deserve it, Isaac. Go, before he catches on,” Stiles shooed Isaac down the stairs and out the door, standing between where Derek was making dinner and the front door.

“I wasn’t going to harass him about his date,” Derek called.

“Mhm, sure. He’s almost twenty years old and you still want to give him the Dad speech. I get it. Just, let the boy be until he wants to introduce you,” Stiles said, joining the alpha in the kitchen. He pulled himself up on the counter and watched Derek work. He was beautiful, moving fluidly throughout the kitchen. Derek reminded Stiles so much of Claudia Stilinski, so alive and vivacious, not to mention a born natural in the kitchen. Before Stiles had left, Derek barely knew how to microwave a frozen burrito, let alone cook chicken and broccoli alfredo, tossed salad, and garlic bread.

“You’re kind of sexy when you cook,” Stiles blurted, because his mouth does things _without his permission._

Derek turned and stared, leaning against the stove.

“Derek? You okay, man? Did I break you?”

“No, no, not broken. Just processing.”

“That I called you sexy? You had your tongue down my throat this afternoon, and you and I made a child together. Do you need to process that?”

Derek chuckled, giving Stiles a common smirk before he turned back to dinner.

“I guess I just didn’t expect you to, you know, say it out loud. I hurt you so bad you left the state.”

“Yeah, that’s behind me now. We have a kid. You’re doing your best to help me fix whatever the hell is going on. You hurt me, sure, but a guy’s gotta grow up and learn to deal with things instead of running away. _We have a kid_ , and I’m a grown ass man. Besides, I’m right. You’re really sexy when you’re cooking.”

“We still need to talk, about earlier.”

“The earlier where you pushed me into the pantry door and then kissed me in front of our offspring?”

“Yes, Stiles. That earlier.”

Stiles grinned, kicking his feet happily against the cupboards below him.

“Can we repeat that before we talk? Because I’m not entirely sure what happened there. I could use a refresher course.”

Derek twists a few knobs so the food is on low and moves towards Stiles, standing between his knees. His hands rested on Stiles’ thighs, leaning in to kiss Stiles hard. Hands find hips and hair, their chests pressed flush into one another as they lick into each other’s mouths. Stiles isn’t sure if he ever wants to breathe again, especially if it meant Derek was going to stop. This was the reason Sadie had become a thing, because Derek’s kisses were like air when you are drowning, water when you are dehydrated, the sight of home after a long vacation.

“Okay, okay, I’ve been refreshed,” Stiles gasped, pushing Derek away gently. “Keep going like that and we’re gonna have another baby on the way.”

Derek whined, _whined._

“Don’t joke about that,” Derek mumbled.

“Sorry, werewolves are sensitive about pups, right? Is it a werewolf thing? Or is it a you thing?”

“It’s a werewolf thing, mostly. But you were right about that pregnancy kink thing,” Derek informed him.

“I’m always right. I’m also amazed that you, how do I put this nicely, talk about things instead of slam people into walls and growl at them until they read your mind.”

“I don’t think that was nicely.”

“It was nice enough, considering you used to slam me into walls, and steering wheels, and growled at me until I read your mind,” Stiles shot back.

“Have I apologized for that, yet?”

“You’ve apologized plenty. Let’s eat, and make out on the couch like a couple of teenagers until Isaac or Cora get home.”

“Sounds perfect.”


	24. Chapter 24

Tommy showed up on the Hale front porch the next morning, arms crossed angrily across his chest. Derek growled from the top of the steps where he was holding Sadie on his hip, a baby growl echoing in Sadie’s chest, another coming the kitchen where Isaac was making breakfast for the pack, and then coming from the living room where the rest of the pack was waiting for their food.

“Make him leave before I rip out his throat, Stiles,” Derek commanded from the stairs.

“Okay, okay, I will. Just, you know, calm your pack down before they beat you to it.”

Derek paused, listening before nodding. Stiles nodded back and slipped out the door, shutting it behind him and saving Tommy’s life for two seconds longer.

“I’ve been in town for almost a week, Stiles,” Tommy opened with.

“Yeah, and I’ve been in town for almost a month. What’s your point?”

“You haven’t called me, or come to see me. Are you really that angry with me that you don’t even want to see your best friend?”

“My best friend is Scott McCall. You’re just a jackass who called me useless, because I don’t have a high school diploma and I got pregnant at 17. Don’t think you’re special just because you’ve known me for a couple of years and watch my kid every now and again,” Stiles snapped. “I’m so sorry that I had the gall to not call you when you’re being _so nice_ to me.”

Tommy sighed.

“I’m sorry, Stiles.”

“Damn fucking straight, you’re sorry. You were an asshole, and you deserve to be sorry.”

He nodded, obviously holding his tongue.

“Okay, you obviously want to say something else. What is it?”

He opened his mouth to talk when Stiles continued, “Just remember that I have the power to cut you off from ever seeing Sadie again, and I am no longer afraid of using it.”

“What? You’re going to go back to Seattle when your little _emergency_ is over and find someone to watch Sadie when you’re working your nine hour shifts for minimum wage, someone who puts up with her attitude? You’re going to find someone who cares enough to clean up after one of the brat’s tantrums while you’re gone, cares enough to stop her from hurting herself? You’re lucky to have me,” Tommy snarled.

“This is you apologizing? Insulting me? Insulting _my kid?_ Someone really needs to send you back to pre-school. Sadie apologizes better than that, and she’s never sorry about anything. It physically pains her to admit she was wrong, which is a Hale trait, I think, but still. She’s two and she’s better at apologizing than you are.”

Tommy’s whole face soured, lips pursing and eyebrows furrowing as he stepped closer to him. Stiles hated that expression. That was the expression he wore when he got off a particularly rough day of work, having been his boss’ punching bag, and generally tried to pick a fight with Stiles over something stupid. It was the expression that Stiles generally tensed up for because when Tommy was in a rotten mood, nothing but time could bring him out of it. Even Sourwolf Hale could be brought out of a bad mood with a bit of comedy, or physical body-to-object contact.

“You and Sadie are mine,” he growled, and it fell a bit short considering the Hale house was still humming with the joined snarls of an angry, territorial pack.

“What are you, a caveman? Sadie, Stiles, mine, ugh,” Stiles mimicked, rolling his eyes. Seriously, why were the guys he was attracted to all nonverbal and primitive? Although, claps for Derek for being so cool about everything up until Tommy, and more so for not ripping Tommy’s throat out on principal.

Tommy reached out and grabbed Stiles’ arm, a surprised yelp escaping him as he was yanked close. The grip on Stiles’ upper arm was hard, nearly viselike.

“Jesus Christ, Tommy! Let go!”

“I do everything for you and her. I clean the house, I cook dinner when you aren’t home, I pay the rent sometimes. I do _everything_ and what I get is, oh, sorry, Tommy. The guy who made me drop out of school because I was too stupid to use a condom bat his eyelashes at me and I definitely don’t care about you anymore! You’re a real stand-up guy, Stilinski. You and that asshole in there will make a great pair.”

“Let go, Tommy! You’re hurting me,” Stiles whined, pulling at the tight grasp. He didn’t even care to register the insults Tommy was hurtling at him, because he could actually _feel_ the bruises forming underneath each fingertip. “Let go. Please. _Please._ ”

“He said let go,” an angry Derek thundered from behind Stiles. Tommy’s grip didn’t relent. “So I suggest you let him go.”

“Please, Tommy,” Stiles begged, and Jesus, he hated begging so much. Derek’s hand joined Tommy’s and wrenched it off Stiles, catching him as he stumbled back with a reassuring hand on his lower back.

“I want you off my property and out of Beacon Hills,” Derek stated. “If you come near either Stiles or Sadie ever again, I will rip your throat out and bury you in the Preserve where no one will ever find your body. Do you understand me?”

Tommy stumbled backwards, nodding quickly as he moved away from the Alpha.

“Go!”

He turned and took off, sprinting for his car and peeling away.

“Are you okay?” Derek asked, voice quiet and unsure as he took Stiles’ arm in his hand gently. Stiles pulled up the sleeve of his shirt and inspected the bruising area.

“I’m not gonna be able to explain that to Dad.”

-&-

“You’re not useless,” Scott said about halfway through breakfast.

“What?” Stiles said, coughing on his eggs.

“Arms up,” Sadie told him, repeating what he told her every time she coughed. To humor her, he put his arms over his head. She grinned and went back to her own plate of eggs.

“You’re not useless,” Scott repeated, the table nodding in agreement.

“I don’t know where this is coming from, but thanks, man. You’re not useless either.”

“When you and Tommy were, you said he called you useless,” Scott reminded him. “You’re not. And as your best friend, I am obligated to tell you that you’re definitely not.”

“He’s right, though. I mean, I work at an office as a glorified personal assistant for minimum wage, working 9 hours every day, six days a week. I don’t have a high school diploma, only a GED that doesn’t really impress anyone. I have an apartment that I can barely afford, a car that someone else bought me, and that same someone watches my daughter for free. This is the same daughter that I got pregnant with when I was still a teenager. He’s right, I am useless, and I need him more than I like to admit,” he replied, stabbing at his eggs.

A chair scraped on the floor and then, Stiles was being dragged out of his chair by a strong Hale hand. Except, it wasn’t Derek. It was Cora.

“What?”

“You brought that beautiful little girl into this world, Stiles Stilinski, and yes, you did it at a young age but do you regret her?”

“No, no of course not.”

“Then stop throwing yourself a pity party about that! You have a job you hate, then quit. You have a guy in your life that is a jackass, then kick him to the curb. You are a strong independent black woman who don’t need no man,” Cora said, poking him in the chest.

“And you’ve been spending too much time on the internet,” Stiles retorted. She glared.

“You have control over the shit that happens in your life, Stiles. So control it!”

Stiles kicked sheepishly at the ground.

“It’s hard, Cora,” he mumbled.

“It doesn’t matter if it’s scary or hard,” she shot back. “You have to make a decision in your life on whether you’re going to be a victim your whole life or if you’re going to stand up and deal with your problems like a hero.”

“I’m not a hero. I’ve never been a hero.”

“You saved my life; you saved your father’s, Scott’s, Lydia’s, Isaac’s. Trust me, you’re the most hero-est hero to ever hero,” Cora replied without missing a beat. This is why they were friends, because Cora could keep up with him. Conversations with Cora were the greatest, even better than those with Scott. Although, Scott had gotten better at keeping up since he’d taken control of his life in junior year. He had been glad that it was Cora that came to see him when he left. Cora let him stay hidden while not letting him get away with keeping her in the dark. Had it been anyone else, he would’ve been dragged home and life would’ve been different.

Would that really be that bad, though?

He could’ve finished high school, and maybe he could’ve made up with Derek.

Or maybe he would’ve resented Derek forever.

“Stiles,” Cora’s voice drifted into his thoughts, pulling him away.

“Yeah?”

“You’re a hero, Seahorse. Who else could’ve survived in a new city, in a new state, with an infant you’re raising on your own, on a crappy job with bad hours and worse pay? Not only survive, but thrive? I couldn’t have. Scott and Allison would be lost without each other. Isaac definitely couldn’t have.”

“Hey! I am sitting _right here_ , Cora Hale!”

“Yeah, you got a point, Ponyboy?”

He glared but said nothing else.

“My point,” Cora continued as if she hadn’t been interrupted, “was that you are one of the strongest, bravest men I know. No one else could’ve done what you done, or had the strength to come back and ask for help. Now stop your self-deprecation and protect your daughter, Seahorse!”

Stiles took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment before letting it out.

“Yeah, yeah, okay.”

“Good, now, Isaac has prepared a meal that isn’t half bad and you’re going to enjoy it before your daughter eats the rest of your plate,” Cora said, pushing Stiles towards his seat. He sat and pulled his plate away from Sadie.

“I have a question,” Scott said, hand half raised.

“What’s up, Scott?”

“Why does she call you Seahorse?”

Stiles laughed, a startled bark. “Male seahorses are the ones who get pregnant. I was pregnant with Sadie, therefore, Seahorse. Why does she call Isaac Ponyboy?”

“He just looks like a Ponyboy,” Cora defended. Stiles looked between them, Isaac’s cute blushing and Cora’s stubborn expression, and smiled.

“Hey Cor, where were you last night?”

She paled, and stuttered out an unconvincing “Nowhere!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate Tommy.   
> I have a tumblr, packyourbagsrightnow.tumblr.com! Or find me on twitter, @hypocorismm


	25. Chapter 25

Stiles hated go to the store, especially with Sadie. She’d always see something she wanted, be it a toy or food, and when Stiles couldn’t give it to her, the tantrum would happen. It was always a big thing too, first with pitiful whimpers and then quiet sobs, and the progressing into kicking and screaming. However, when he realized he was out of diapers and baby wipes at Derek’s house, and at the Sheriff’s, it was his lucky day.

“You are the best,” he gushed, hugging Boyd tightly. It was Boyd’s weekend off from classes and had offered to watch Sadie while Stiles went to the store. “You are a god, and I will do anything for you that you ask.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you will. Go, before I change my mind.”

Stiles pressed a kiss into Sadie’s hair and snatched his wallet from the table by the door.

“If she gets too fussy, or out of control, just call me. I’ll come straight home.”

“Go have fun, Stiles. I’ll be fine with the munchkin,” Boyd assures him, shooing him out the door and to his Honda parked along the tree line.

He drove with the windows down, music blasting like he couldn’t when Sadie was in the car. The grocery store wasn’t far from the Stilinski house, but the drive from deep within the Preserve was strangely perfect. Beacon Hills are gorgeous, when it wasn’t crawling with kanimas, or crazy hunters, or dark druids, or Alpha packs. Unfortunately, Beacon Hills was quite literally a beacon to supernatural wars and vendettas.

“Don’t want to let you down but I am hell bound, though this is all for you. Don’t want to hide the truth. No matter what we breed, we still are made of greed. This is my kingdom come, this is my kingdom come,” Stiles sang, turning down familiar streets. He tapped the wheel as Imagine Dragons played loudly from the stereo. “When you feel my heat, look into my eyes, it’s where my demons hide; it’s where my demons hide.”

He pulled into the parking lot and parked near the doors, shutting the music off. He took his time getting out of the car, knowing that he could. When he was with Sadie, she wanted out, and she wanted it immediately. Getting out meant getting into all of the things, usually.

He wandered up and down the aisles, grabbing healthy options of quick microwavable meals for Sadie and the makings of healthy meals for his father. He compiled a mental list as he went of easily frozen casseroles that he could leave for his father when he left for Seattle. He grabbed a new pack of diapers in Sadie’s size, a big pack of off-brand wipes, and baby lotion before wandering into the toys section out of habit. Sadie didn’t need any more toys, but she was his little girl, and yeah, okay, she needed a new toy for being so good recently. She hardly threw fits over anything small, and Stiles had to wonder if the pack had mellowed her out.

Pack or not, they had to go back to Seattle when all this was done, right?

“Mr. Stilinski,” a familiar voice purred from in front of him, inspecting a toy innocently. Stiles stilled, staring at the man to which the voice belonged, the Alpha. “I trust you remember me. Why else would you have run home to your precious Hales if you didn’t?”

“What do you want?”

“Your cub, Mr. Stilinski, but you already know that.”

“Why do you want her so bad that you followed me two states to get her? Have your own damn wolf cub!”

“Why have my own when you created perfection on the first try? She has all the makings of a great Alpha someday, and with a bonus bundle of magic waiting inside her bones to be tapped into. Besides, no human can raise a cub properly. Your precious Hale couldn’t do it. That’s why she’s better off with me, so she may flourish into the wolf she is meant to be. All you will do is weaken her with _humanity_.”

“You’re a werewolf, asshole,” Stiles shot back. “ _Were_ literally means adult male human in Old English. You cannot belittle humanity when it is half of who you are, and half of who she is. Every single werewolf on the planet is half human, half wolf. It’s in the name itself!”

The Alpha’s eyes glowed red at Stiles’ outburst.

“Do not think me stupid, young mage.”

“Do not think me impressed, old ass werewolf.”

“Do you want to know what’s wrong with your daughter, Mr. Stilinski?” the Alpha asked, eyes fading to a pale blue as they stared.

“What did you do?”

“Me? I did nothing. But I have a cure for what ails her.”

“Then give it to me.”

“Oh, no no. That’s not how this is going to work, Mr. Stilinski. I will cure your cub under one condition; you give her to me and _never_ try to take her back.”

“You know I won’t do that.”

“Then your cub will die.”

It wasn’t a threat, Stiles registered. It was a fact, a fact that Stiles had been avoiding. Sadie was getting sicker, even though she put on a brave face for him and the pack. She slept more, actually taking naps during the day instead of being an Energizer bunny, and ate less. She was pale and shaky, breathing wet and ragged. She was cuddly but not in any kind of good way. She was cuddly because she knew that nearness to others made her feel better. When the pack drew her pain, it took longer than was particularly safe for them. She coughed more often, her entire body coughing with her. Stiles was scared, because this Alpha was right. His cub was dying and he couldn’t do anything about it.

“Think about it, Mr. Stilinski. Talk it over with your mate, your pack. We will be awaiting your answer.”

“How will I contact you?” Stiles asked.

“Our emissary,” the Alpha answered vaguely. Stiles hated werewolves, he really did. “He’s staying at the Good Night Inn. Are you familiar with it?”

“Am I fami- Jesus Christ, I hate werewolves. I literally grew up in this town. I’m familiar with the inn!”

“Room 23,” he stated before disappearing from the aisle. Stiles rubbed at his temples, breathing in and out slowly. How was this even his life?


	26. Chapter 26

“No,” Derek growled.

“Well, yeah, I figured that part out on my own, Derek. But our little girl is _dying._ I know you know. You can smell that kind of stuff, right? You know that she’s dying and if this saves her life, shouldn’t it be worth it?”

“You want to give our daughter to a foreign pack of stalking werewolves?”

“She won’t die, Derek! You think I want to give her up any more than you do? I carried her in my stomach! I’ve spent every day for the past two years with her! I heard what her first word was! I watched her take her first steps! I changed her diapers and soothed her colic! I don’t want to give her up either, but what choice do we have? Deaton has no idea what is wrong with her! I won’t watch her die! I won’t! Not when there’s someone who can help her!” Stiles finally snapped, slamming an open palm onto the granite counter between them.

Derek lets out a weary sigh and nods. “There must be something we can do.”

“We’ve looked, in every single book and every single scroll. Lydia’s translated so many passages that I think she might cry the next time she sees archaic Latin! There is _nothing else_ that we can do.”

“We can’t just give up.”

“There’s nothing left, Derek! There is _nothing!_ ”

Derek didn’t reply, only rounded the corner and pulled Stiles into his chest as he started to cry.

“Daddy, you okay?” Sadie asked, toddling slowly into the kitchen from the living room. Her skin was so pale, bruised beneath her eyes, her lips cracked.

“I’m, no, baby. I’m not okay,” Stiles answered, kneeling as she reached them. She threw a wobbly hug around his neck and he lifted her up, her diapered butt resting against his hands. “But I think you and Poppa could fix it.”

“Fix it! Okay!” she chirped.

“I’m sorry, Derek,” Stiles said. “I don’t want to give her up, but there is literally nothing we can do to save her. She’s just going to get sicker, and weaker, and I can’t watch someone wither away. Not again. At least this way, I know she’ll be alive. It’ll be okay, even if they’re planning on taking away her humanity.”

“They’re what?”

“They don’t think a human can raise a cub, Derek. Why would they teach her to be human if they think that?”

“They’re wrong.”

“I’m aware, but still. They think we’ll make her weak by grounding her to humanity. They want her to be, I don’t know, wild.”

“Feral.”

“Yeah.”

“How can we let this happen?” Derek asked, hugging Stiles close as Sadie nuzzled into Derek’s jaw from Stiles’ arms.

“We have no other choice, unless you have a magic cure for all ills that you’ve been hoarding.”

Derek looked as defeated as Stiles felt, and Sadie didn’t even notice the change.


	27. Chapter 27

Stiles wiped tears from his eyes as he packed a bag of Sadie’s clothes, hands shaking as he listened to the Sheriff talk to her downstairs.

“When your daddy was little, he would wait at the door for me to get home after a shift. He would have this excited face on and he’d be bouncing in place, like he was made out of pure energy, even though his mommy had sworn he was minutes away from a nap. You are a little bit of Daddy and a little bit of Poppa, but mostly, you’re like Talia and Claudia, and even a little bit of Laura.”

Stiles gripped his jeans in a tight fist, breathing ragged, vision swimming with the beginnings of a panic attack.

“Stiles, breathe. It’s okay,” Scott said, leaping from where he was sitting at Stiles’ desk. He took Stiles’ hands in his and tugged Stiles into a hug. He rubbed gentle, concentric circles into Stiles’ back, shushing him with quiet murmurs. Stiles wasn’t even entirely sure his best friend was saying words, but it was better this way.

“You don’t have to do this. We’ll find a way. There has to be a way.”

“Scott, there isn’t. I’ve read all of the books, and looked through all of the websites. There’s nothing,” Stiles muttered into Scott’s shoulder. Stilinski-McCall hugs were some of the best, one step below Stilinski-Stilinski hugs.  “I want there to be some magic answer but, there is nothing left.”

“I know,” Scott sighed. “Come on, I’ll help you pack.”

Scott and Stiles worked together, packing and pretending Stiles wasn’t about to hand his child over to complete strangers to save her life.

“I used to sing her to sleep,” Stiles said. “I was awful at it, self-conscious and wobbly. But she loved it. She’d stare up at me and smile, no matter what song it was. I’d sing her anything that came to mind, and she just would fall asleep in my arms. And she was so tiny, Scott. She was premature, and she’s never really caught up so she’s still itty bitty. But god, she was just so little. And now I won’t know if she’ll always be little.”

Scott gripped Stiles’ shoulder comfortingly.

“Her first word, after Dada, was no. I laughed so hard, I think I scared her. She was playing with one of her toys, this stupid pig with wheels and it rolled away. She stared at it before she said no with the sternest expression. She was about 11 months old and she already knew no,” Stiles continued, wiping tears away again. “It’s been downhill from there. Once you learn the word no, you never really are the same.”

Scott and Stiles laughed hollowly.

“God, Sadie would’ve been so disappointed,” Stiles muttered, the werefox’s determined face coming to mind.

“Sadie,” Scott asked, drawling the name slightly in confusion.

“The werefox, I met her during my stay with the Collectors. The woman I named my child after,” Stiles explained.

“Why would she have been disappointed? From what you told me, she didn’t seem like that kind of person. She would’ve been proud of you.”

“She would’ve wanted me to keep going, keep researching until I found an answer. She wouldn’t have wanted this. If she’d survived, and we’d gotten married, and Sadie was her kid, she wouldn’t have let me decide this. I’m weak, just like I always have been. There’s nothing I can do. Stop shaking your head, Scott. There is nothing I can do to save my daughter, and this is the only way.”

“Stiles, stop beating yourself up.”

“I can’t, it’s what I’m good at.”

“No, what you’re good at is finding information on the internet like no one else, and calming Sadie down off a major temper tantrum, and caring for people. We get beat up enough by everyone else in our lives; let’s not add masochism to our list of bruises.”

“You don’t even bruise, shut up.”

Scott nudged Stiles companionably, “Tell me more about Sadie.”

“Oh, god! I could go on for hours! I’m one of those ridiculous parents that praises everything their kids do, and tells stupid parent stories all the time.”

“You’re proud of her, it’s normal.”

“Yeah, I guess. So, did I tell you about the time that Sadie bit her dentist?”

Stiles rambled for close to an hour while they finished packing. He was in the middle of telling his best friend about the time that Sadie decided to take off her clothes and diaper and run into their backyard, claws out in search of the raccoon she’d smelled when Derek opened the door and leaned against the doorframe.

“Hey,” Stiles said, smiling softly.

“How are you guys doing?” Derek asked.

“We just finished, actually. How’s Sadie?”

“The Sheriff has her distracted,” Derek answered. “She’s relatively calm right now, hasn’t picked up on anything yet.”

“She will,” Stiles promised. “We’ll be right down.”

Derek nodded and disappeared from the hallway.

“How are you and he going, by the way? You seem alright, considering what he did. Did he apologize?”

“No, well, sort of. He’s tried to apologize, but I’m not sure I want to hear it yet. It still hurts sometimes, when I think about those first weeks in Seattle. But, I can be civil.”

“Civil is making out with him and sleeping in his bed?” Scott chuckled.

“It’s a good kind of civil. If you and Allison had to be civil after something like that, wouldn’t you want to make out and sleep together?”

“Point taken.”

Stiles hefted a bag onto his shoulders and grabbed another while Scott managed four full suitcases. Werewolves were handy on occasion.

“I don’t want to do this,” Stiles said, sagging in the doorway. “I can’t give her up, Scott. This is so unfair. Life is a fucking asshole. Here, your kid is sick and you can either watch her slowly die of this incurable, non-diagnosable nothing or you can hand her over to a pack of creepy werewolves that want to make her into a weapon and you will never see her again.”

“Stiles,” Scott sighed.

“I know, I know, quit beating myself up. I’ve got it. I just, I feel like the world owes me _something!_ ”

“We’ll come up with a plan,” Scott promised, gripping Stiles’ arm comfortingly. “And we’ll get her back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have discovered that my whole goal in life is to make as many readers cry as possible. 
> 
> If you haven't noticed, this is now part of a series. You will get a sequel, a Derek's point of view one-shot, and an alternate ending sequel once this finishes. So, look forward to that. :)
> 
> Find me on tumblr (packyourbagsrightnow.tumblr.com)! I blog about teen wolf, doctor who, and my fanfics that I'm working on.


	28. Chapter 28

Stiles has never walked down a longer hallway than the hall leading to Room 23. Sadie held tightly to his hand, staring in awe at her new surroundings while Derek loomed behind him like an unforgiving dark cloud. He was glad he didn’t have to do this alone, because the second he stepped foot onto the second floor of the Good Night Inn, he might’ve picked Sadie up and drove away, speeding towards the nearest witch doctor or shaman he could find. He would spend the rest of her life searching for a cure, or a diagnosis at the least. He would hide her away from the world for the rest of her days and then, the rest of his own.

“Okay, Monkey,” Stiles said stopping feet from the door. He knelt down and set her bag on the ground. “We’ve gotta talk, okay? You’re going to a, a new home, and there’s gonna be puppies, like you there.  But, you won’t get to see Daddy and Poppa every day. We’re not, we’re not going with you.”

Sadie looked confused, her entire face scrunching up.

“You’re going to have to be really brave, okay? Can you do that for Daddy?”

“Daddy,” she whimpered, reaching for me and pressing her little palm to Stiles’ cheek. He nuzzled into her touch.

“I’m sorry, but you’re not gonna see us, or Uncle Scott, or Isaac, or Aunt Cora. You’re going to have be a big girl, and listen to what they tell you. They’re not gonna give you cuddles, and they’re not gonna let you watch Cars three thousand times every day. You’re going to be alone, and I’m so sorry. You’re gonna feel better, though. They’re gonna fix you up, and you’ll be okay.”

She threw a hug around his neck as he bit back a sob, burying his face into her thin shoulder.

“Don’t forget me, Sadie. Please, just, don’t forget me,” he whispered as the door opened.

“Mr. Stilinski,” a cool voice stated with an air of sophistication and arrogance from Room 23. “And Alpha Hale, nice of you to see your offspring off.”

Stiles stood, taking Sadie’s hand in his own. The man in the door was tall but built, hulking shoulders and menacing looking thighs filling up the doorway. He reminded Stiles of Mountain Man, Collector Extraordinaire too much for comfort.

“Are you the emissary?”

“And this must be Sadie. Well, Alpha Bartle was not lying. You did create perfection, now didn’t you, Mr. Stilinski? Mmm, yes, and there is magic in her as well. She will make a fine addition to the pack,” he cooed. He stepped into the hall, and knelt before Sadie. Stiles felt Derek tense beside him while Sadie edged closer to the emissary.

“Would you like to see a wolf, Sadie?” he asked, reaching his hand out. She looked up at Stiles and then Derek, her Alpha. She stared at him, seeking permission before he nodded. She took the emissary’s hand. The emissary led Sadie to the door and pointed towards an honest to god gray wolf lying on the couch. “Go on, little cub.”

She stumbled towards it as the emissary held out his hands for her bags. Stiles and Derek silently handed them over.

“Thank you, Mr. Stilinski. Your generosity will not be forgotten,” he said, disappearing into the room. Stiles and Derek got one last look at Sadie, kneeled on the couch while the wolf sniffed her lazily, before the door swung shut between them. The deadbolt slid home, and Stiles was left staring at the cold, mocking metal of the room number.


	29. Chapter 29

Stiles wasn’t sure how he made it back to the Hale house or how he even managed to stay standing long enough to find himself into the living room, but one moment, he was in the Good Night Inn and the next, he was curled into himself on the floor. He could hear the murmurings of the pack around him, and there’s suddenly Bunny in his arms. He doesn’t care who handed it to him, but he gripped it to his chest, tears flowing faster.

“Stiles,” Derek’s voice broke through. “You need to breathe.”

“I can’t.”

“You’re going to pass out,” Derek reminded him. He slid Stiles into his lap, pressing his back into Derek’s stomach and his hand finding the center of Stiles’ chest. “Come on, breathe with me, Stiles. Match my breathing. You can do it.”

Stiles focused on the inhale and exhale of Derek’s chest against his back, drawing in breaths and pushing them out in tandem with the Alpha. Stiles couldn’t stop any of the tears welling in his eyes and dripping down his cheeks, but at least his head was clearer with oxygen flowing through his veins.

They sat like that for a while, Stiles has no idea how long, but Derek’s warmth had seeped into his chest and his entire body had relaxed against him. He handed his daughter over to an emissary and nothing could change that, not even Derek’s arms around his torso or his breath hot on Stiles’ neck. He gripped Bunny in a tighter grasp and leaned his head back against Derek’s shoulder.

“Derek,” Stiles said, turning in the Alpha’s arms to face him. His eyebrows were drawn together and he looked like he was the one in danger of passing out. He pressed a hand to his chest, breathing labored. “Dude, are you okay?”

“Can’t,” Derek wheezed. “I can’t breathe.”

“What? Why? Is it a panic attack, or?”

He shook his head, shoving Stiles off his lap gently and moving to his knees. He leaned over and coughed.

“Not a panic attack. Choking.”

“On what? What could you possibly be chokin-” Stiles interrupted himself and grabbed Bunny. He pushed his fingers through the matted, faded fur until he found a seam. “Someone give me a claw!”

Isaac appeared at his side, claws at the ready. Stiles gestured to the new seam on the stuffed animal and Isaac ripped it open.

“You should get back, just in case,” Stiles warned, digging around in the stuffing and pulling out a packet of very fine purple and white dust. “Wolfsbane.” He squeezed the packet and dust burst from a tiny mechanism at one end. “Well, fuck.”

He vaulted over the couch and dashed up the steps to Derek’s bedroom. Puppy was still tucked into the crib’s blankets. He ran back to the pack and grabbed Isaac’s hand, ripping a recently stitched seam on the wolf. He dug quickly and found another packet, pressure activated and filled with not wolfsbane, but mistletoe.

“We need to get Derek to Deaton,” he said, grabbing Bunny and Puppy along with their independent packets, stuffing them into a plastic bag. “Come on, guys! Your Alpha is choking on wolfsbane, and I can’t get him in the car on my own. Let’s go!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, there's that.  
> Are you hanging in there?


	30. Chapter 30

Deaton handed Derek a glass of water and instructed him to gargle it and spit it out into the sink beside him.

“And these packets were inside the stuffed animals?” Deaton asked, watching Derek. Derek coughed and sagged against the sink. Deaton rummaged around in his jars before pulling out one half filled with loose red powder.

“Yeah, wolfsbane in Bunny, and mistletoe in Puppy. She sleeps with them pretty much every night,” Stiles explained. “What is that?”

“It’s cayenne pepper,” Deaton explained.

“Okay. Why?”

“Derek has to eat it.”

“That sounds awful, why?”

“It cleans the lungs, pushes the toxins out.”

“Nothing like a cinnamon challenge in the middle of a crisis,” Stiles said while Deaton measured a spoon of cayenne and handed it to Derek. “Eat up, big boy.”

Derek glared and took a labored breath before shoving the whole spoon into his mouth. He coughed but swallowed, and handed the spoon back.

“You should stay near the bathroom, Derek,” Deaton advised, nodding towards the office’s attached bathroom. “That’s going to come back up.”

Stiles tried to contain his giggle, he really did, but it just came and he stuffed his fist into his mouth.

“It seems that Sadie has been slowly inhaling these, and due to their placement, only she would’ve inhaled them. These are pressure packets,” Deaton explained, holding up the packets for Stiles. “They only open when pressed, or squeezed. Does Sadie hug her toys, Stiles?”

“All the time. They’re her safety blankets. She barely lets anyone touch them.”

“Why didn’t you leave them with her, then?” Deaton asked.

“I needed them,” he answered honestly. He ignored the glance Derek threw his way. “I can’t imagine they’re going to let her keep them, anyway.”

Deaton hummed, examining the stuffed animals’ entrails.

“These will have to be thrown out, you know. It’s not safe for the pack to be around them. The powders have become part of the fabric, no wonder young Sadie was getting sick fast. She was inhaling this consistently, and it was in her bloodstream. With the right detox and time spent apart from the powders, your little girl will be fine, Stiles.”

“That would be fine,” Stiles said. “If they told me I could never try and find her.”

Derek threw himself into the bathroom suddenly and Stiles winced as the sounds of vomit hitting the porcelain was all he could hear. The one good thing, Stiles could admit about having a werewolf for a baby was that they never get sick, no sniffles or stomach viruses to speak of. He could change the worst diaper in the world but vomit was not his forte.

“Then I’ll just have to go find her,” Derek said once he was done, wiping his mouth on the bottom of his Henley. “They’re not going to have a choice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I totally pulled the cayenne pepper part out of my ass using some facts I found on the internet, so I'm sorry if that's not a proper way to clean out your lungs or whatever. I did what I could.


	31. Chapter 31

Stiles paced the bottom floor of his childhood home, feeling the heavy gaze of the Sheriff following him up and down. Derek had rounded up the pack and they’d set out to track down the pack three hours before. Stiles hadn’t stopped pacing.

“Stiles, you’re going to hurt yourself,” the Sheriff had tried to say but one look from his son had shut the Sheriff’s mouth. He understood. If someone had asked him to stay home while they went searching for Stiles, he wouldn’t have been able to sit either. And he wasn’t even surprised that Stiles had enough pent up energy to pace for three hours after having barely slept for a week and a half. Sheriff Stilinski was barely surprised at anything Stiles was capable of, recently deciding to take Claudia’s approach to the child and just staring in wonder.

Stiles paced, thoughts whirring in his head.

_What if they know they’re coming and Derek never comes home?_

_What if they can’t find the pack?_

_What if they hurt Sadie?_

Scenarios played out in his mind, each other as terrifying as the last. He doesn’t stop moving for a moment, his steps speeding up to keep up with his heartbeat.

Stiles paced.

He paced until his muscles burned and his veins pumped battery acid.

And then he paced some more. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you catch the Fight Club reference?  
> :)


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Fight Club reference in the last chapter was the last three lines (He paced. He paced until his muscles burned, and his veins pumped battery acid. And then he ran some more.) Replace paced with ran, and he/his with I/my and you have lines from Fight Club, fun fact. :)   
> I don't know if you'll get a chapter tomorrow. I'm stealing a neighbor's internet to post this, and it's not exactly reliable. I'll post when I can. :)

Stiles fell asleep around five o’clock the next morning, tumbling exhausted into the couch cushions, face pressed deep into a pillow and his mouth hanging open. 

He dreamt of Sadie all grown up, sashaying towards the pack in the woods. Her hair is knotted, blood dried around her mouth, her eyes glowing yellow in the dark. Her face was morphed into a beta form, a snarl ripping through her throat. This wasn’t the sweet little girl Stiles had raised, and it was all his fault. He had created this monster, this monster that wore his daughter’s face but nothing else. There was no smile lines around her mouth and eyes, no light in her face at all. There was only a cold-blooded killer waiting to tear his throat open, and his Alpha wasn’t even around to save him. The pack that had followed him into the woods was gone, and he was the only target Wild Sadie had in sight.

The door banged open, waking Stiles while the pack piled in through the entrance, all bloody but healing without a problem. Cora and Isaac swept through straight to the kitchen, announcing that they were making enchiladas, followed by Boyd. Lydia danced through, not a scratch on the girl, pressing a delicate kiss to Stiles’ cheek. Allison pulled Scott through the door next, dropping a duffle undoubtedly filled with crossbows as they followed the rest into the kitchen. Stiles waited and watched as the next pair through his door was a tall, dark, broad shouldered Alpha werewolf and a giggling werewolf cub.

“Sadie,” Stiles sighed, stumbling forward.

“Daddy!” she squealed, flinging herself out of Derek’s arms as soon as he was close enough. He buried a hand at the base of her skull, cradling her head against his neck. She rubbed her scent into his skin as he fell to his knees in relief. He whispered her name like it would save him, chanting it over and over while they held to one another. “Puppy?”

“Sorry, baby. Puppy isn’t here anymore,” Stiles said, sitting Sadie back on his legs just enough to see her. She was unharmed and there was that light in her eyes that hadn’t been in his dream. She scrunched up her face but didn’t look mad, just confused. “But Auntie Lydia is _definitely_ going to buy you a new Puppy. And maybe, if you’re a really good girl, you can bat those lashes at her and she’ll buy you a new Bunny too.”

“Bunny?”

“Yeah, sorry about that, Monkey. Puppy and Bunny had to go on a vacation.” The Sheriff snorted from the couch and Stiles shot him a look. He opened his mouth to continue when Peter stomped in, dragging a bloody, black-eyed Thomas Deen. Stiles stood, heart sinking into his gut while Peter forcefully threw Tommy to the ground at Stiles’ feet. He cradled Sadie close and stared down at the man. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m sorry, Stiles. I’m so, so sorry.”


	33. Chapter 33

“Lydia,” Stiles called, not taking his eyes off Tommy. “Come here.”

Lydia appeared at his side, glaring her iciest stare at Tommy that Stiles had ever witnessed. “What do you need?” she asked.

“I need you to take Sadie out of here. I don’t want her around him. Spoil her if you want, buy her a new Puppy, and whatever else she wants. Just, don’t come back until I call, okay?”

Stiles eased Sadie into Lydia’s arms, ignoring the tug in his heart at having to let his little girl go right after he finally got her back. She was safe with Lydia, he reminded himself. Lydia was practically a walking rape whistle, and besides that, the woman was fierce without any supernatural powers. No one fucked with Lydia Martin, ever. Unless you were Peter Hale, that is and even then you couldn’t look her in the eye for the rest of forever.

“I have free reign?” Lydia asked.

“Yes, Lydia. You have free reign,” Stiles sighed. He already regretted this decision.

“Oh, we are going to have some _fun,_ Sadie Mae,” Lydia cooed, and waltzed out the door, grabbing her purse on the way. “Come on, Allison! We’re going shopping!”

Allison flitted out the door, purse over her shoulder with a grin.

Stiles turned back to Tommy, grabbing him by the front of the shirt and dragged him up. He didn’t have superhuman strength like the rest of the pack, but he wasn’t weak by any shot. He shoved him into the couch and dropped onto the coffee table.

“You had better start talking before I find my dad’s service weapon, and it accidentally goes off while pointed at your groin. Do you understand?” Stiles snarled.

“Okay, okay,” Tommy threw up his hands in surrender. “I’ll talk, just don’t hate me.”

“From where I’m sitting, Tommy, I don’t have much choice.”

His face fell, and for once, Stiles didn’t want to scramble to fix it. He didn’t much _care_ if Tommy was upset or hurt; he was the reason Stiles’ daughter had gotten so sick.

“The pack passed you when you first got into Seattle, and they smelt wolf all over you. They asked me to investigate, to see if you were a threat to their territory. They wanted me to test you, but once I found out you were pregnant, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. So, I waited, hung around while you got further along, and I started to get attached. I fell in love with you,” Tommy said.

“No, don’t. You poisoned my daughter, Tommy. You don’t get to admit that you’re in love with me. Just tell your fucking story.”

“Sorry, sorry. When you had Sadie, I waited a week before slipping wolfsbane into your drink, strong enough to make you sick but not enough to kill you. The pack wanted you alive, and you got sick for a couple days. Do you remember that?”

Stiles nodded. Sadie had slept most of the time, then, so heaving his guts into the toilet for 36 hours straight while on pain medication wasn’t hindered much by a screaming newborn.

“But you got better, so we tried mountain ash. You just stepped right over it. We didn’t even think it could be your child, until a couple of months ago. Sadie was throwing one of her legendary fits. I’d grown so used to them that I didn’t notice the little things she does, or the _changes_ she went through.”

“Her eyes,” Stiles commented. Tommy nodded.

“Her eyes. I didn’t, I didn’t want to tell them,” Tommy answered. “I wanted to protect her, protect you. But they’re my family, and I couldn’t keep it from them. They taught me everything I know, and for that, I owe them. They’re right, Stiles, humans can’t raise wolves. I’ve seen the cuts she leaves on you when she throws a fit. I was scared for your safety, worried that maybe she was too much for you. And Perses wanted her the moment he saw her, he could feel her power and could see how powerful she would grow to become. He wanted that little girl to grow up as his second.”

A chorus of growls ripped through the pack at his words, at the idea of Sadie being someone else’s pack, someone else’s Head Beta.

“Perses took me in, when my family couldn’t accept me and my powers. He taught me how to control it, and when I was old enough, powerful enough, he let me take over as emissary.”

“But you, you weren’t the one who took Sadie at the Inn,” Stiles said, shaking his head. There was no way, just no way that Tommy Deen was an emissary, certainly not one who belonged to a pack set on taking his daughter. Tommy _knew_ how much Sadie meant to him, and he was just going to take her away.

“No, that was just a human member of our pack. I couldn’t, I couldn’t face you. I told Perses I wanted to remain undercover for a while longer, until Sadie was initiated and incorporated into the pack. He knew, I know he knew, but he didn’t much care, he was getting his prize anyway.”

Stiles wanted to plug his ears and scream at him to shut up. The man in front of him, telling him that he had helped his daughter be taken, did not match up with the same man that watched stupid movies with him, and let Sadie ride on his shoulders in the store when she was being good.

_- &-_

_“Stiles, have you seen my p-” Tommy called._

_“It’s on the coffee table right underneath your keys, Thomas!” Stiles answered, dunking the cup under the water in Sadie’s bath while she splashed her toys around. “Okay, Monkey, we’re gonna rinse the soap out of your hair. Tip your head back.” He tipped Sadie’s head back by her chin and with the other hand poured the warm water over her head. Her first birthday had just passed and as she got older, her hair got darker and darker. She’d been born with dark fuzz, but it grew out light._

_“You are a god, Stiles Stilinski,” Tommy said, sliding into the bathroom with his portfolio tucked under his arm, a travel mug from his Alma Mater in one hand, his keys in the other. “I’ve got to stay late tonight, and go in early tomorrow so I won’t be by tonight.”_

_“Oh, I’m heartbroken,” Stiles joked, refilling the cup in the bath water._

_“Fine, I’m not bringing you home dinner then!” Tommy said, fake sniffing while he nudged Stiles in the side with his shoe._

_“I’m sure I will survive for a night,” Stiles replied, catching Sadie’s eyes. “Isn’t that right, Monkey Butt? We’ll be fine. It’s Daddy’s day off anyway. We’ll go to the store and hopefully the food stamps will actually work this time so we can get you some food that isn’t canned or from three weeks ago. Yeah, that sounds like fun, doesn’t it?”_

_“Da!” she screeched, splashing happily in the tub._

_“Da is right, Sadie.”_

_She picked up a squeaky duck and squeezed, cackling when it squeaked._

_“Oh, dear. I’m going to kill Jakob for those bath toys. Yes, I am.”_

_“I gotta go,” Tommy said, dropping to a crouch to kiss Sadie’s cheek and then to sneak one on Stiles’ lips. “You want Chinese? I’ll have it delivered.”_

_“You are too good to me, Thomas!”_

_He hummed._

_“Sometimes.”_

_-_

_“Hot,” Sadie said, pointing at the sun as Stiles and Tommy walked into the park, Sadie resting on Stiles’ hip happily._

_“You’re right, Sadie. The sun is hot. But the sun is good for the Earth,” Stiles said, watching the kids around them. “The sun makes plants grow, and it also keeps us warm so we don’t freeze. Without the sun, there would be nothing. We’d just be a rock floating through space. The sun is good.”_

_“Okay!” she agreed._

_“Just like you, baby girl. You’re pretty good, too.”_

_She smiled and Stiles set her down near the playset._

_“You astound me sometimes, Stilinski,” Tommy said as they followed the wobbly toddler around the playset._

_“Why’s that?”_

_“Because you’re so good with her, and you barely like kids.”_

_“Just because I don’t like kids doesn’t mean I don’t love my own. Everyone else’s offspring doesn’t matter to me. She matters. She’s the only thing that matters. I have to be good with her. There’s no one else to be good with her.”_

_“You have me,” Tommy told him. Stiles scoffed._

_“And someday, Tommy Boy, I won’t have you, and there will be no one else to be good with her. See how this goes? Everyone leaves, but she’s got me, and I’ve got her. That’s all that matters.”_

_“Well, that day won’t come for a long time, Stiles.”_

-&-

“How fucking could you?” Stiles asked, jaw clenched while his eyes prickled with the threat of tears. “You loved her, Tommy. You helped me when no one else would. And you promised me you would never let anything hurt her. You fucking _promised_. How could you do this to me, to her?”

Tommy’s gaze dropped.

“You don’t get it, Stiles. They’re my pack, my family. I can’t, I can’t disobey my Alpha.”

“You’re his emissary, Tommy! You’re supposed to guide him, advise him! Not cower before him!”

“It’s not like that,” Tommy snapped.

“You say that you fell in love with me, but you tried to take my daughter from me. You say that she was important to you, that you grew attached, but you poisoned her. You put wolfsbane, and mistletoe into her stuffed animals, one of which you helped pick out! I don’t get how you could just claim that we’re _so important_ and do this to us.”

“It wasn’t about you, Stiles.”

“BULLSHIT!” Stiles yelled, standing so fast from the coffee table that it tipped and the entire room flinched.

“Stiles, calm down,” Tommy said, moving to stand but Stiles shoved him back, anger and betrayal radiating through his veins.

“I won’t calm down, Tommy. Not this time. You need to go, before I kill you with my bare hands and my house full of werewolves won’t be able to stop me. You need to go right now.”

Tommy stood and edged away from Stiles.

“How’d you get the packets in the stuffed animals?” Isaac asked, standing between Tommy and the exit. Stiles hadn’t even noticed that everyone left in the house had crowded into the doorways around him, glaring intently at Tommy.

“I, I snuck into the house, when Stiles was asleep and the Sheriff was at work. I ripped them open and put the packets in, used my magic to sew it back shut. It was quite simple,” Tommy answered.

“But there wasn’t any scent. There hasn’t been any unusual scents in town at all,” Isaac mused.

“I like him, he’s intelligent. It’s a charm,” Tommy said, reaching into his shirt and tugging out a necklace. “It’s charmed to make me have no scent, and everyone in my pack that isn’t human wears one as well. Clever, right?”

Derek stepped forward and without a word, ripped it off his neck.

“You need to go now,” Stiles said, pulling Derek away gently. “And if I catch you or your pack anywhere near me, my child, my family, my pack, my anything, Thomas Ryan Deen, there is not a soul on Earth that can save you, because I will hunt you down and I will rip your throat out,” Stiles said. He paused a beat before adding, “With my teeth.”

Tommy stumbled out, slamming the door behind him. If he had a tail, it would’ve been tucked between his legs.

Stiles sagged into the nearest werewolf, a solid wall of Derek muscle, and let out a pained sigh before he asked, “Is it over?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah, there's Tommy's story.  
> I hate him.  
> Anyway, I have a tumblr,
> 
> packyourbagsrightnow.tumblr.com

> 
> , if you want to follow me there. I post a lot of Teen Wolf, Doctor Who, and my own writing. Also, I'll post links to new Teen Wolf fics I'm posting ;)  
> Two more chapters, bbies!


	34. Chapter 34

Stiles had successfully packed up the entire new wardrobe that Lydia and Allison had bought Sadie (read: Spoiled Sadie with) into his minimal amount of bags, and then his own shoddy wardrobe. He even managed to get all of their bags into the back of his Honda without any supernatural help, or disturbances. Although, considering he did it in the dead of night while everyone was sleeping before class or work, he didn’t really expect any help.

He wanted to just leave a note, explaining that he couldn’t say goodbye, that it would hurt too much, and he’d be home for the holidays. He wanted to just leave in the dead of the night, driving through straight to his empty Seattle apartment. And yet, he didn’t want to leave at all. He’d been saying all along that Seattle was his home, was Sadie’s home, but he was wrong, he could feel it. Home wasn’t where his possessions were kept, and it wasn’t where his job was. Home was with his pack, his father, the memories of his mother, the embarrassing moment of running into his lacrosse coach in the grocery store and having to explain that Sadie was his kid. Home was where his Alpha pulled him into dark corners to make out like teenagers while their kid played with her cars, and where his childhood best friend made googly eyes at his longtime girlfriend over anything she did, and his best bro in the whole world finally worked up the courage to ask the quiet kid on a date. Home was where his father was secretly seeing his best friend’s mother but didn’t think he knew, even though _hello¸ he’s not blind_.

He couldn’t just leave, not again.

He had to do this properly this time, with hugs and kisses and pleas not to go. He had to, because he might not forgive himself if he fucks this up one again. And he’s not sure the pack could forgive him again, either.

He started with Boyd, walking Sadie into the Hale house before setting her in the werewolf’s lap. His arms encircled her waist as he continued eating his eggs like nothing happened. Stiles sat down with the pair and watched as Sadie chatted with her pack mate.

“You’re leaving,” Boyd finally said, breaking the silence.

“Yeah, I came here for help. And you guys did amazing. You protected her, and now it’s time to go home. This was never supposed to be permanent,” Stiles said, playing with his own fingers, slotting and unslotting them.

“I guess there’s no chance of changing your mind, then?”

“We have a life in Seattle,” Stiles explained.

“I know, just don’t be a stranger, okay?” Boyd asked. “We need you around here, and, well, I’m going to miss you. Both of you.”

“I’ll visit when I can,” Stiles promised. He didn’t dare promise specifics. He knew better.

“I know, just don’t cut us out, Stiles. We’re family too.”

Stiles side tackled Boyd in a hug, barely moving him an inch on his seat.

“I won’t. I promise, Boyd. I won’t leave my family, not again.”

-&-

He takes on Peter next, who had found a sunshine spot on the back deck and had stretched out like a cat to soak it up. Sadie plops right on his chest with a giggle and starts talking to him like they were best friends.

“What’s the occasion?” Peter asked, sitting up and tickling Sadie’s belly.

“We’re leaving,” Stiles answered. He hadn’t ever noticed it before but Sadie had a little bit of Peter in her looks, probably dormant Hale traits that had skipped Derek.

“Today?”

“No day like it.” Stiles shrugged.

“Does Derek know?”

“No, not yet. I packed up the car last night, and we’re gonna say goodbye to everyone before we go. But, I didn’t want to give him time to beg, you know? An Alpha should never beg,” Stiles said, watching as Sadie wrapped Peter in a hug and buried her face in his neck.

“An Alpha will beg for his mate,” Peter answered.

“I’m not,” Stiles sighed, shaking his head. “I’m not his mate, Peter. We slept together once, and I left town. That’s not exactly mate material.”

Peter snorted.

“Compared to Derek’s last choices in companions, Stiles, you are the most perfect choice that he could ever make. And I’m not sure I disagree with his choice this time,” Peter said, nuzzling against Sadie’s cheek. “You’re good for him. You ground him; make him more human than ever before. Plus, there’s the added bonus of you being his child’s father, which drives him crazy more than he likes to admit.”

“Mate or not, Sadie and I have to go home.”

Stiles was grateful that Peter didn’t call him out on the lie.

“Don’t cut us out. Specifically, don’t cut Derek out.”

“Funny, that’s what Boyd said.”

-&-

Allison and Lydia were next, and he caught them in the living room. They knew, and they looked like they were about to cry. Stiles didn’t handle crying well.

They hugged Stiles and Sadie respectively, sniffling into their necks as they clung tightly.

“I’m going to miss you, Munchkin,” Lydia whimpered to Sadie. Sadie just pat Lydia’s back like Stiles did for her when she was upset.

“You okay?” she asked.

“Yeah, Sadie. Aunt Lydia’s okay.”

They didn’t have to be werewolves to hear the lie.

-&-

Scott cried, clinging to Stiles like a barnacle.

“You can’t go. I just got you back,” he begged. “You’re my brother, Stiles. You can’t just leave me.”

“Scott, I have to.”

“No.”

“Sco-”

“No, Stiles. You already left me once, I can’t allow it.”

“Come on, Scott. It won’t be forever. I just have to go back so I don’t get fired, and get evicted out of my apartment. Sadie’s home is in Seattle.”

“No, it isn’t. It’s here, with her pack, her Alpha.”

“Scott.”

“No.”

“You’re acting like a child.”

“I don’t care.”

“Scott,” Stiles sighed, running his hand through Scott’s unruly hair. The boy leaned into the touch, a hum of approval rumbling in his chest. “You can come visit us anytime, you know that. I’m coming home for the holidays, and you can skype me whenever. It’s not like we’ll never see each other.”

“It’s not the same!” he whined.

“I know. I know it isn’t. But I’m an adult who adult commitments in Seattle.”

“Stupid Seattle,” Scott grumbled, intentionally rubbing his cheek into Stiles, sharing his scent and picking up Stiles’.

“I know, I know. I’m gonna miss you too, buddy.”

Stiles might have cried as well.

-&-

Cora and Isaac were found together in Cora’s room, cuddled as they played video games on her flatscreen. Stiles let Sadie loose at the door and watched as she pulled herself onto the bed and into Isaac’s lap.

“Isaac!” she cooed, pushing the controller away. Sadie loved to be the center of attention, like most two-year-olds.

“You’re going, then?” Cora asked, settling aside her own controller.

“Yeah, we just have Derek left to say goodbye to,” Stiles answered. “I explained what was happening last night to my dad before he left for work.”

“Last but not least,” Cora said.

“Figured if there was anyone who should see her off, it should be Derek.”

“He’s gonna ask you not to go,” Cora reminded him.

“Well, it can’t be any worse than Scott slobbering all over me in an attempt to get me to stay,” Stiles said. He was lying, he was sure it was going to be worse. Because Stiles had let Derek get to know his daughter, let him fall in love with her, and here he was taking away the daughter of a man who had practically no family left in the world. He was worse than Jennifer, Deucalion, Gerard and Peter combined, he realized.

Cora wrapped Stiles in a tight hug and didn’t say another word. They watched Isaac teach Sadie more about fish in the ocean, watched her face light up as he spoke. She didn’t realize that she was here to say goodbye. It was just another day for Sadie, seeing her favorite people, her pack and getting hugs and kisses. It made Stiles feel even worse.

“Did you know,” Isaac asked, “that as much as 95 percent of the ocean is undiscovered? That’s amazing, isn’t it? People say that space is the final frontier, but we still don’t know what resides in 95 percent of the ocean! And the ocean covers about 70 percent of the Earth! That’s so much Earth, the planet we live on, that we have no clue about! Isn’t that cool, Sadie?”

“Yeah!” Sadie agreed. Stiles wiped tears from his eyes, watching Isaac read to Sadie from one of his textbooks. Sadie pointed at pictures and named them. “Seahorse! Jellyfish! Nemo! Turtle!

“You’re so smart, Sadie!” Isaac praised. “I’m going to miss you, Butterball.”

“Miss you,” Sadie replied.

“Yeah, that’s right. I’m gonna miss you. But you’ll be home soon, I mean, you’ll be back soon.”

Home, Stiles thought. They weren’t going home at all. They were leaving home.

-&-

Derek got home at 3 that day, over an hour earlier than usual. Stiles had Sadie in the front yard of the house, chasing butterflies while they waited.

“What’s going on?” Derek asked, stepping out of his Toyota. Stiles really missed the Camaro, even if it was illogical and not actually his decision. Missing the Camaro made him miss his Jeep, and that was a dangerous road.

“Sadie and I are heading back tonight,” Stiles said, watching as Sadie ran towards Derek. “I wanted to say goodbye to everyone before we did.”

“You’re leaving,” Derek said emotionless.

“Yeah.”

Derek lifted Sadie onto his hip and let her grab his face to plant a wet kiss onto his lips. She kissed his cheeks and eyes and eyebrows, before burrowing into him, arms around his neck.

“I love you,” he whispered into Sadie’s shoulder.

“I love you too, Poppa,” she answered.

“Do you have to go?” Derek asked.

“Yeah, Ms. Noble is expecting us tonight. We’re already pushing it, so…” He trailed off, uncomfortable. “You should come to Seattle soon. I’ll show you around, show you where I want Sadie to go to pre-school, and the park she loves more than anything in the city.”

“Yeah, okay,” Derek agreed, nodding around Sadie.

“Also, it’s gonna be lonely up in Seattle, so Sadie might need the pack to pop in when they can,” Stiles said.

“Right.”

“Thank you, for looking after her, making sure she was safe. I know neither of us planned on her, but she’s pretty much the only thing I’m proud of. I made that, _we_ made that little girl and I’m just grateful you, you know, were there for her.”

“Stiles,” Derek sighed.

“Yeah?”

“You should get going,” Derek replied. Stiles, stunned, only nodded and moved to take Sadie. “I want to say one last goodbye, alone. If that’s okay. I think some of Sadie’s toys are still in her crib.”

“Her crib! Right!”

Stiles turned and dashed inside, knowing that her crib had one thing in it, a seahorse Isaac had bought her the first week they were in Beacon Hills. When squeezed, it light up and played music for the baby, lulling them to sleep. Stiles hadn’t decided if he wanted to bring it with him or not. It was a Hale House item, kept in Sadie’s crib for nap time.

He sat down on Derek’s bed and sighed. What was he doing? Jesus Christ, what the fuck was he doing leaving Beacon Hills? Beacon Hills was his _home_ , but for some stubborn reason, he was leaving it behind. Seattle wasn’t anything anymore.

“You don’t have to go, you know,” Isaac said from the doorway. The hallway light shone behind him, illuminating his figure in the dark room. “You can change your mind, stay here.”

“I can’t. We need to go.”

“You don’t sound so sure,” Isaac answered. “No one call you out on being wrong.”

Stiles shot a weak glare at him before sighing.

“Yeah, you’re right. But I’ve gotta to do this. I have to stand on my own two feet. Without help from the pack, from Tommy, from my dad, from anyone. I’m a big boy, and I’ve got to take care of my daughter on my own. I’ve never actually done that. I need to.”

“What is that phrase you used before; it takes a village to raise a child? You’re right, but maybe she also needs a pack.”

Stiles shook his head.

“I need to go,” Stiles said, standing. He passed Isaac, closing the door to Derek’s bedroom behind him. He pressed the seahorse into the beta’s hands. “I’ll see you around, Isaac.”

He left the house without speaking to anyone, finding Derek leaning against the Honda’s hood, Sadie strapped into her seat in the backseat. Stiles jogged up to him and wrapped the Alpha in a hug before he could second guess himself.

“I’ll be back, Derek. I will always be back,” he whispered into the man’s ear before stepping away. “But right now, I have to go.”


	35. Epilogue

**“ _I am not a broken heart._**  
 _ **I am not collarbones or drunken letters never sent. I am not the way I leave or left or didn’t know how to handle anything,**_  
 _ **at any time,**_  
 _ **and I am not your fault.**_ ”

-I Am Not A Broken Heart; Charlotte Eriksson

“HIGHER, DADDY!” Sadie screeched two weeks later as Stiles tossed her into the air. His arms ached from his new job, but the hours were better and came with an affordable daycare right next door. “HIGHER!”

“If I toss you any higher, Sadie, you’re going to hit the ceiling,” Stiles reasoned. She growled.

“ _HIGHER_!”

Stiles sighed and tossed her higher, her back grazing the ceiling of their small apartment. He set her on his hip and spun around once, letting her lean away from him as he went. He stopped, dizzy.

“Okay, Monkey, go play. Daddy’s gonna make dinner,” Stiles said, setting her feet on the ground. She took off for her room, and pounced on the Tigger she had set in the center of the room earlier. Since she’d gotten better, she’d found a brand new store of energy to use all day long. Luckily, she passed out at 8 every night like a good girl, and woke up at 7 the next morning as Stiles was getting ready for work. Maybe it was the hour and a half to two hour nap she reportedly had at her daycare every day that amped her up for the rest of the day.

The apartment was full of Sadie, pictures of Sadie from all ages, pictures with her pack, and pictures with the Sheriff. Her stuff had taken over, which wasn’t a surprise. She had a toy box in the corner of the small living room that didn’t actually hold any toys, since those were strewn across the floor. The bookshelf was full of Sadie’s books on the lower shelves, and Daddy’s books on the upper shelves coupled with non-Sadie friendly items. Even Stiles’ room had become a Sadie zone, one of her stuffed wolves tucked next to her pillow on his bed. She slept more often than not in his bed with him, cuddling into his side on her stomach, cute baby snores filling the quiet.

While the apartment had become full of Sadie, it had drained of anything Tommy related. All pictures were destroyed, his clothes burned, gifts thrown out. It felt empty the first few days, frames empty and a whole section of the bookshelf vacant. There was a drawer in Stiles’ dresser that now lay useless, waiting to be filled by Sadie. This was Stiles’ solution to the Tommy-shaped hole in his life, fill it with Sadie.

Stiles forged on every day, moving just a bit further every second away from the Seattle pack incident. He used Sadie as a distraction, showering her with affection, letting her make him play with her even when he was dead tired. He made her actual food now for dinner, healthy food instead of microwavable everything. He wanted her to be the healthiest little girl she could be, just as he wanted his father to be the healthiest Sheriff ever. At least with Sadie, he put food in front of her and she ate it up, most of the time without complaint.

He started dinner, a grilled chicken breast with a side of steamed peas and corn and a cup of mandarin oranges, while Sadie put Tigger in various parts of the house and crept up on it like an actual predator. She’d pounce on it from behind and growl at it, and it worried Stiles only slightly but considering how cute she was, he didn’t think much of it.

A loud banging sounded through the apartment, Sadie popping up from behind the love seat.

“I’m coming!” she yelled, running to the door. She reached up and tried to open the door. The banging sounded again.

“Alright, Cora! I’m coming!”

_- &-_

_Stiles curled up on the bed, arms clutched around his stomach. He was pregnant, and while he had known for a couple of days, he still couldn’t process it. He felt warm, too warm for it to be normal but he’d read somewhere that pregnancy raises your temperature. He wanted to go throw up again but there was nothing left to throw up. He’d been bent over the toilet in his motel room for the past three days, eating bare bones of meals and guzzling water in an attempt not to die of dehydration before his next birthday._

_A pounding started in his head, louder than ever before, twisting his stomach._

_It took him a moment to realize that the pounding wasn’t in his head at all. The pounding was at his door. Groaning, Stiles picked himself up and stumbled to the door. He peeked out and saw Derek’s Toyota waiting in front of his motel._

_“Jesus Christ, Derek! I’m coming! Stop it!”_

_The pounding didn’t stop. Stiles yanked open the door and instead of Derek Hale, an angry Cora Hale stood before him with her arms crossed over her chest._

_“You look like shit,” Cora commented before barging in. Stiles turned slowly, closing the door behind them. “What’s going on? Why did you run to_ Seattle, Washington _of all places?”_

_“I just drove, drove until the Jeep couldn’t take it anymore. We were right outside of Seattle, and I stopped here. I think I’m gonna stay here. It’s a nice city. Werewolf free, well, it was until you got here.”_

_“Why did you leave?” she asked as he collapsed into the bed and dragged himself into the pillows. She moved to sit beside him, running a caring hand down his arm. “Are you okay? You really do look like shit, Stiles.”_

_“Don’t tell anyone, okay? I don’t want anyone to know because they’ll tell Derek, and Derek will come here, and I can’t. I can’t see him. Please.”_

_“Yeah, okay, of course. I won’t tell anyone. Just, tell me what’s going on. You’re scaring me. Are you dying?”_

_“No,” Stiles laughed. “I’m not dying, although I feel like I am. I’m pregnant.”_

_“What? Come again?”_

_“I’m pregnant. Your brother and I slept together, and he got me pregnant. Do we need to go over specifics?”_

_“No, god, no. Please. I can figure it out,” Cora cringed. “Okay, so Derek knocked you up and you ran away to Seattle. What happened in between?”_

_Stiles sighed, and shook his head._

_“I don’t wanna talk about it.”_

_“I just drove nine hours hunting you down. You are going to fucking talk about it before I rip your tongue out of your head._

_“I don’t appreciate you threatening me while I am carrying your future niece or nephew,” Stiles whimpered, rubbing his stomach._

_“Sorry,” she replied. “Please, tell me?”_

_Stiles nodded, pressing the heel of his hand into his tiny bump for reassurance. He replayed the whole Derek incident, starting with Derek’s appearance in his window and ending with Stiles packing up and leaving. Cora watched him with increasingly sad eyes before she threw a hug around him._

_“I am so sorry, Stiles. You are so pack. Oh my god, that asshole is so wrong. You are pack; you are the most pack to ever, you know, be pack.”_

_Stiles hugged her back, sighing into the familiar warmth of his best friend. He didn’t cry, but wanted to. He hadn’t even been gone that long, and he missed this. He missed this so fucking much._

_“I missed you, Stiles. I missed you so much,” she said._

_“I missed you, too. God, I missed you.”_

_“Come home.”_

_“I can’t, Cora. I can’t see Derek. Ever. It’ll kill me. Please. Don’t tell them you’ve seen me, don’t tell them where I am, and don’t even mention that you came to find me. Just, please?"_

_“I’m going to come and see you and my niece or nephew, can I do that?”_

_“That, I can allow.”_

-&-

“Cora! Jesus Christ! I’m coming, you psycho Viking!” Stiles called after a full minute of pounding. He turned the chicken down to low and joined Sadie at the door. He opened the deadbolt and then the regular lock before pulling open the door.

It wasn’t Cora.

“Poppa!” Sadie cried, running for Derek and leaping into his arms. They furiously nuzzled into each other, trading scents like it was the last thing they’d ever do. “Missed you!”

“I missed you,” Derek replied.

“I was just making dinner, if you want to come in. I make extra every single time, so there’s plenty,” Stiles said, stepping aside to offer his apartment to the Alpha. Derek strode in like he owned the place, Sadie still clinging to him and scentmarking him. “Sadie, want to show Poppa how to set your place?”

“Okay, Daddy!” she said, sitting back and squirming until Derek set her down. Stiles went back to making dinner, listening to Sadie babble to Derek while she collected her plate, and cup from the lower cupboard. Since Stiles taught her to set her own place, she insisted that her stuff should be within reach.

Once dinner was done, Stiles moved it to the serving plates and carried it skillfully to the table with one trip, sliding each into the center.

“Can I get you something to drink, Derek? We’ve got apple juice, milk, water, decaf tea.”

“Tea!” Sadie said, lifting her cup for Stiles. He ruffled her hair and took her cup.

“I’ll just take water, please,” Derek answered. Stiles quickly gathered the drinks, and joined the pair at the dining table. He didn’t have a dining room, so the table was tucked in between the living room and the kitchen. His apartment was basically one big room with two bedrooms and a bathroom coming off one side of it.

They ate, listening to Sadie talk to Derek in between bites.

“Sadie, eat your peas,” Stiles instructed, poking his fork at her pile of peas. She had this talent of eating just the corn, which was a win in Stiles’ book considering most kids wouldn’t touch any vegetables at all.

“Okay, Daddy,” she said with a pout, scooping a shaky handed spoonful of peas and shoving them into her mouth. She made a face before chewing and swallowing. “Ick.”

“She doesn’t really like peas,” Stiles explained, watching Derek’s gaze track Sadie’s movements.

“I can see that.”

Sadie ended up with orange juice all over her as well as ketchup and smushed peas. She even managed to get peas in her hair, which gave Stiles flashbacks to when she first started eating baby food and somehow always managed to get more food in her hair and on her clothing than actually in her mouth.

“Do you want a bath, Sadie?” Stiles asked, peeling the onesie over her head. She shook out her hair as he tossed the onesie to the laundry hamper in the middle of the room. It was usually tucked into the corner with her changing table, but apparently she’d also been stalking the hamper.

“No!”

“Okay, well, you’re covered in food, Monkey.”

“No!”

“I guess it can wait until tomorrow morning.”

“What’s tomorrow?” Derek asked, leaning in the doorway.

“Nothing. It’s my day off, so she doesn’t have to go to daycare. Normally, if she has daycare, she gets a bath at night before bed so I can skip it in the morning. It’s difficult getting a toddler and yourself ready for the day,” Stiles explained, tickling Sadie’s bare tummy. “Do you need your diaper changed, big girl?”

“No!”

Stiles chuckled and tugged the back of her diaper out to check anyway.

“Yes, you do, silly!”

He laid her on her back and quickly cleaned her up, tossing her dirty diaper and wipes into the diaper genie beside the table. He secured the tabs on her belly and pulled her up.

“Poppa wants to get you dressed for night-night, and brush his teeth with you while I finish washing the dishes,” Stiles said, kissing her cheek and gesturing to Derek to take over. He slipped into the kitchen and started clean up. He kept an eye on them, watching while Derek picked out a grey short-sleeve pajama top and a pair of pink pajama shorts with a cute puppy pattern and helped Sadie into them. He watched as Derek helped her down from the changing table and followed her into the bathroom. She stepped onto her stool while he fumbled with her toothbrush and toothpaste, both Cars themed. He grabbed Stiles’ toothbrush and toothpaste, walking her through the steps and brushing his teeth alongside her. Stiles turned away, a stupid grin on his face. In the depths of his pregnancy, even with Tommy as a cuddle pillow, he had dreamed of this, of Derek raising their daughter with him, of him teaching her life things and wolf things, of him being there to be _domestic_ with him.

And this was so domestic Stiles might start crying.

“Daddy! Bedtime story!” Sadie said, attacking Stiles’ legs as he finished drying the last pan.

“I think it’s Poppa’s turn to read a bedtime story,” Stiles answered, lifting her into his arms. “Don’t you, Poppa?”

Derek stared wide-eyed at the pair.

“I don’t know any bedtime stories,” he mumbled.

“That’s okay,” Stiles grinned. “I’ve got plenty of bedtime story books. Don’t we, Sadie? I’m sure there’s one you can read.”

Derek flipped through the bedtime story book on Sadie’s nightstand and settled on The Teddy Bear War while Stiles settled Sadie underneath the covers of her toddler bed. The story was actually one of Sadie’s favorites.

“‘I’m the cutest!’ Baxter Bear said to Billy Bear. He was certainly a very handsome teddy bear. His fur was soft brown and he wore a purple sweater and straw hat,” Derek started. Stiles watched the Alpha, listened to the different voice he made for each bear.

“‘I’m the cutest!’ Billy Bear insisted. He too was a very handsome teddy bear. His fur was snow white and he wore a red sweater with little glasses on his cute teddy bear face.

“They were sitting on Cindy’s bed. The little girl loved them very much and always took good care of them. She wiped them with a soft cloth every day and changed their sweaters all the time. She let them sleep in bed with her at night. She had a tea party for them every Sunday afternoon. She even took them to Grandma’s with her when she went to visit.

“The two teddy bears had been content with this arrangement for quite some time. Lately, they both thought that maybe one was better than the other.

“‘I don’t wear yucky glasses the way you do,’ Baxter pointed out to Billy as they sat on the bed waiting for Cindy to come home from school.

“‘I don’t wear a silly straw hat the way you do,’ Billy pointed out.

“‘You wait,’ Baxter said. ‘When Cindy comes home from school, she’ll pick me up and kiss me first. She always does.’

“‘No, she doesn’t,’ Billy told him. ‘I’m the one she always picks up and kisses first.’

“‘We’ll see about that,’ Baxter said

“‘We’ll see about that,’ Billy said.

“They sat on the bed together waiting for Cindy to come home. They sat on the soft pink blanket all afternoon not saying another word to each other. At one time, they had been best friends but now, they were in the middle of a fight to see who was the cutest. Both thought that he was. Cindy had a lot of toys and dolls but Baxter and Billy had always been her favorites. She got them from her Grandpa, who died right before Baxter and Billy came to her. They were very special indeed.

“All afternoon they sat together and then they heard Cindy downstairs. She was home from school! They heard her come bounding up the stairs.

“‘We’ll see now,’ Baxter whispered to Billy.

“‘We’ll see now,’ Billy whispered back.

“Cindy came running into her bedroom and threw herself down on the bed. She was adorable in her brown pigtails. She had freckles on her nose and was missing her two front teeth. Baxter and Billy remembered when she put the teeth under her pillow so that the Tooth Fairy would come and visit her. The Tooth Fairy had left her two dollars and she had bought the straw hat for Baxter and the glasses for Billy.

“She picked them both up at the same time and hugged them together. ‘How are my two favorite boys doing?’ She gave them a kiss on the cheek. ‘I have such wonderful news to tell my darlings! My other tooth is loose and that means the Tooth Fairy will be coming to visit again. When she does, I’m buying you boys a nice little teddy bear bed that you can share. Mommy said that she will help me pay for it because she knows how much I love my babies.’ She kissed them again. ‘Now, darlings, I’m going to get my milk and cookies. You boys behave and I’ll come back in a little while.’ She set them down carefully on the blanket and ran back downstairs.

“Baxter looked at Billy. ‘Maybe we are both special.’

“Billy looked at Baxter. ‘Maybe we are both the cutest teddy bear to Cindy.’

They smiled at each other and sat on the bed waiting for her to eat her snack and then come back to play with them.”

Derek shut the book quietly, looking at Sadie. She was passed out in her bed, turned over onto her stomach, emitting cute baby snores. Stiles and Derek both pressed delicate kisses into her hair before sneaking out, turning on the nightlight that threw stars and moons onto her walls and turning off her overhead light. They smiled at one another and moved to the couch, sinking down beside one another.

“I’m sorry,” Derek said suddenly. Stiles opened his mouth to respond, but Derek plowed on, holding a hand up to stop him. “No, I have to say this because you haven’t let me yet. I’m sorry, Stiles. I was the biggest asshole on the planet. I never should’ve said that shit to you. I didn’t even mean any of it; I was saying it because I was scared. You were a kid, and you were human, and I could _hurt_ you. I could tear you apart, without even meaning to. I didn’t want to hurt you the way I’d been, and I panicked when I thought about it. When you were asleep in my arms, I couldn’t stop picturing you throwing yourself in the way of a bullet for me or something, and you never waking up. I was scared, and I lashed out to keep you away. It’s no excuse, I know; don’t look at me like that. I just wanted you to be safe, and I didn’t the shittiest thing in the world to do that.”

“So, you didn’t mean it when you said I wasn’t pack?”

“God, no. You’re pack, Stiles. You’ve _always_ been pack,” Derek said, grabbing Stiles hands. Stiles looked at their hands, chewing on his lip. He experimentally laced their fingers and looked at Derek through his lashes.

“Come home, Stiles. We need you. Fuck, _I_ need you. And I can’t do this without you. I’ll help you find an apartment, and help you move all your stuff so you don’t have to live with the Sheriff. I mean, I would really prefer if you moved in with me so Sadie could have us both and have the pack as she grows up, but I don’t care. I don’t care where you live as long as it’s in Beacon Hills, because I just can’t keep going without you and without her in my life. I fucking miss everything about you, how you don’t let me get away with anything, and you don’t let me let the pack get away with anything, how you’re pushing me to be a better Alpha, and a better person. You’re _always_ around when someone needs you, hell sometimes before someone needs you. You don’t even _like_ Peter, and you’re always giving him chances with Sadie to be the uncle he has never really been. And you cook for the pack, you provide for the pack like you’re not just Sadie’s, but the entire pack’s mom. You are what we need, what I need, and I need you to come home because I miss you so fucking much.”

Stiles opened his mouth again.

“And I miss Sadie, because the house has never seemed so empty as when it is when she isn’t there, filling it with toys and screams. She snuck in and became the biggest part of the pack, and she made my house feel like a home again. It’s been ten years since it’s heard little baby feet stomping through the halls, giggles filling between the walls. It felt like I never lost my family, and then she wasn’t there, and you weren’t there, and it felt so hollow. And, and, Jesus Christ, Stiles, please just say yes and come home!”

“I’ve been trying!” Stiles barked. “You keep cutting me off!”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“Damn right, you’re sorry. If you weren’t so fucking chatty, I was going to say yes.”

“Yes?

“Yes, I’ll move back to Beacon Hills. It’s just too empty here, without Tommy. Without the pack.”

Derek smiled, and Stiles smiled back.

-&-

“Goodnight, Sadie,” Stiles cooed, kissing Sadie’s forehead and stepping back.

“Goodnight, Sadie,” Derek echoed, kissing her forehead as well. She yawned and turned over onto her belly, grabbing her pillow and cuddling with it. Stiles smiled and flicked on her nightlight, backing out of her room. Derek followed, clicking off the light and closing the door.

“We can catch the rest of the game,” Derek suggested, hooking his thumb over his shoulder towards the stairs.

“Nah, come on. We deserve some downtime.”

Derek allowed himself to be pulled into the next room on the second floor of the Hale house, into their shared bedroom and onto their shared bed. Stiles pushed Derek’s shirt up over his head and tossed it away before doing the same with his own. They fell onto to plush cloud that was Stiles’ favorite bed of all time. He had a hard time waking up in the morning for work at the police station because of this bed.

“Mmm,” he hummed, turning into Derek and cuddling against him. “This is good. This is nice. I like this. We should do this _all_ the time.”

“I thought you said we should have sex all the time,” Derek commented, running a hand absently through Stiles’ hair.

“Can’t we just do both? There has to be a position that allows for cuddling and fucking, right? I’m going to look that up tomorrow,” Stiles answered, tracing the muscles of Derek’s stomach with a contented sigh.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“You willingly have sex with this ridiculousness and have beautiful hot-headed babies with me. So, who’s really ridiculous here?” Stiles shot back.

“Still you.”

He pouted and turned his head to pout at Derek when his lips were caught in a soft kiss. He allowed himself to be rolled onto his back and a knee to edge open his legs as Derek nipped a path down his jaw and neck.

“We were just going to cuddle, Derek Hale!” Stiles yelped as Derek worked at a singular spot on his exposed throat.

“Right, right, downtime,” Derek muttered, rubbing his face into Stiles’ skin. Stiles let the Alpha scent him before turning them back over for cuddling. “I’m glad you came home.”

“Yeah, baby,” Stiles sighed, smiling. “I am too.”

They settle into one another, and settle into a deep sleep, clinging to one another with an ease of satisfaction shared between them. This was pack, this was home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it, folks. That's the end of part one. I'll try and get the sequel standalones done in a timely manner so you may feast upon them. :)  
> I couldn't have done it without Tyanne, and Meredith. They're my rocks, and I love them.  
> Until then,  
> DFTBA.


End file.
